


Sugar, We're Going Down

by milkyhwink



Series: boys and bands [1]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Other, kinda gets smutty at some parts oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 08:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkyhwink/pseuds/milkyhwink
Summary: Daniel believes that art rests on the principle of freedom of expression, that it is not bound by any rules whatsoever.Jihoon was brought up to never break them.





	Sugar, We're Going Down

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is from fall out boy
> 
> 010119: fixed the spacing as well as grammatical errors! hopefully the flow of the story is smoother now :)  
> 011819: fixed some typos~

 

Spray paint bottles of every color imaginable scatter and roll on the unimmaculate pavements that lie in front of a prestigious university. Its wall now drips with the rainbow's mixed hues, its lines forming words from the sprayed-on feeling of teenage angst. Its plethora of emotions are a large contrast to the monotonous orange color that the sky shows, slowly fading into a dark-ish navy blue hue with each passing minute.

 

The comfortably clothed perpetrator ends his masterpiece with a hastily sprayed-on “K.D.”, a pair of unfamiliar initials to the ignorant passersby. He has trouble finishing the final dot, transparent air being sprayed out of the can. Shaking it once, twice, multiple times, the blonde man _tsks_ in annoyance and throws the can to the side. It rolls on the concrete and stops its movement when it hits the newly-bedazzled wall, droplets of pigment dripping onto the sidewalk. It waits in solace for someone to pick them up.

 

Satisfied with his masterpiece, the blonde man digs out a lollipop from his pocket, rids it of its plastic covering, and savors on its strawberry delectibility. He eyes the blinking of red and looks up at the source; a cctv camera, a witness to his artistic ability. Rarely does he ever get an audience who're lucky enough to see him in action.

 

The ends of his mouth lifting up, he puts up a peace sign at the piece of technology, hoping that whoever reviews the footage would enamor at his adorable antic. He puts down his hand,wears his hood, and walks away.

 

The sidewalk becomes silent, the residence empty as it echoes whatever source of sound it can gather. In stark hues, the sentence inhabits its newly found home.

 

 

 

_Vita est tempus._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The incessant tick-tocks of an analog clock hanging by a dull wall accompanied by an array of static sounds occupy the four walls of the head guard's office space. The boy with ashen blonde hair sits on the velveteen chair by the office table as his elbow rests on its wooden surface, leaning in to the monochromatic bijou screen which showcases a boy vandalizing school property.

 

The guard on duty pauses the clip once the man in the footage finishes his spray-painted sentence. He turns his swivel chair and eyes the student in front of him from head to bust because really, you really can't see much with a table in the way. He takes a sip of his dark black coffee and lays his mug on the redwood desk. “Why did you do it?” the man asks, suspicion dripping with every uttered word.

 

 **“** It wasn't me,” the younger answered, taken aback by such opinion.

 

The guard raises his eyebrow and turns back to the footage. He presses play and the film continues onto the 'unknown figure' signing the vandal with a hard-to-miss “K.D.” He side-eyes the jumpy defendant.

 

The boy retreats his arm from the desk and crosses his arms close to his chest. He musters all the courage he has and confesses that the owner of “K.D.” could have been anyone. He leans back on his chair smirks, satiated with his testimony.

 

The video then zooms in onto the moment the boy looks up at the camera and does his salutatory peace sign. The guard pauses the footage right then and deadpans at the helpless student. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to reveal an artist's identity after all.

 

 **“** Fine, you caught me,” the boy shrugs and raises his hands up in the air as if about to be handcuffed. He rolls his eyes in an attempt to look menacing, but heaven knows he could never be such a thing. “Now what?”

 

The guard sighs exasperatedly and pinches the bridge of his nose, wary of his blood pressure from going too high up for another trip to the school clinic. He rests his forearms on the table and meets the student eye-to-eye. “Look, Daniel, this is the second time you've done this. We can't let you off the hook for violating school policy _again_ .”

 

Daniel chuckles from such assumption. “Well, for an arts school which upholds artistic liberty, they don't really approve freedom of expression, don't they?”

 

The guard clenches his fist in an attempt to hold himself from explaining why his so-called 'art' does not equal to vandalizing school property. He leans back on his chair and pushes his graying hair back. He feels pity for the poor boy, it seems like he has lost his way from the pressure the school brings. “Don't you know what this means? One more act from you and you'll be expelled.”

 

A word he's familiar with but surprised to hear it applied to him, Daniel turns silent and looks down to the patterned tiled floor. “Got it, chief.”

 

 **“** I sure hope you do, Kang.” Before the guard could say any more comforting lines in hopes to appease the younger, Daniel stands up and hastily leaves the vicinity, not forgetting to close the door. Rolling his eyes, he goes back to work on his underpaid job.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **“** I just don't get it,” says Kim Jaehwan, Daniel's long-term college buddy and trusted friend, as he slurps some ramen into his mouth with gusto. “Why are you risking your talent into breaking school rules? It's kind of stupid, if you ask me.”

 

The two are seated beside each other in their own respective booths, savoring the taste of grade A ramen in the red-themed restaurant. Multitudes of the usual customers crowd the establishment, its convenient location and understandable price point the go-to place for famished college students. Whoever thought of putting up such a business near the school deserves all the riches in the world, but for now they have to settle with in-debt individuals.

 

Daniel hums as he munches through his food, pondering on his best friend's question. “Maybe if they took the time to actually read and understand what I did, then maybe they'd realize it's not vandalism.” He almost chokes from the abrupt swinging of the red curtains dividing their booths, the face of an unconvinced Jaehwan coming into view, cheeks full of his share of the meal.

 

 **“** Niel, for an arts major, you're not really perceptive,” Jaehwan confesses as he stirs his noodles with his wooden chopsticks, the colors of meat and seaweed dancing together in the steaming broth. “There's still rules to be followed, you know.”

 

 **“** Should there really be rules in art, though?” Daniel truthfully asks as he dips a piece of char siu into soy sauce.

 

Jaehwan oggles at Daniel's chopsticks holding the piece of meat as if he witnessed a murder right in front of his eyes. In the softest yet sharpest manner he could, he whisper-shouts into Daniel's booth, “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

 

Daniel brings the meat into his mouth and chews on it as he blinks at his hot-headed friend. “What?”

 

 **“** Why the fuck are you dipping fucking world-class _char siu_ into fucking F-grade _soy sauce_ ?”

 

Daniel chuckles at his friend's unique way of concern. He swallows his food and dips more of his char siu into the seasoning in question. “It tastes good. Here,” he drops a piece of soy sauced char siu into Jaehwan's seasoning-free bowl of ramen. “-try some.”

 

As much as he wants to comfort his friend, Jaehwan couldn't believe the audacity of Daniel's antics. Does he think fine dining cuisine is a joke? “Uhm,” he picks the questionable meat and drops it into Daniel's own bowl, the owner side-eyeing him in wonder. “No thank you.”

 

Daniel shrugs and proceeds to gobble up the rejected piece of meat. “Suit yourself,” he says as he focuses on filling his famished stomach.

 

Jaehwan shakes his head and brings down the curtain divider, their booths back to their own as they spend their time relishing their meals.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Framed photographs of intricate designs and cheesy taglines are displayed along the walls of a peculiar tattoo parlor. Everything is quiet except for the usual feel-good music coming from the shop's built-in speakers as well as the flipping of dated magazines from the store's owner.

 

The ring of a bell is heard as the glass door opens, signalling the entrance of another customer.

 

The owner slides a ballpen in between the pages to mark where to read next. He puts it down on the couch and stands up to welcome the newcomer. “Welco- oh, it's just you.” he says as he realizes who just came in. He sits back down into the moss green sofa, palming the soft surface as his hand searches for his magazine, too lazy to look for it without turning his head.

 

 **“** Glad to meet you too, Sungwoon-hyung,” Daniel greets as he loosens the scarf around his neck and sits down onto an unoccupied leatherette reclining chair. He grabs a copy of compiled tattoo designs, the printed papers nestled into the plastic pages of the crystal black portfolio, and flips through its sleek pages.

 

From a form of taboo to branching itself into popular culture, tattoos are considered as an unconventional art form. Daniel relishes in the liberation of skills Sungwoon chose to pursue as a profession. Graduating from the same shit hole Daniel's currently in, he's delighted to know that his options are open and there's someone who understands what’s going in that mind of his.

 

Daniel's eyes crinkle in glee when he passes through some designs he contributed to the portfolio. He wonders whether there were some customers who chose them and decided where on their body they'd have it inked.

 

Finally, a place where people appreciate his works.

 

Sungwoon looks up from his magazine and lays his eyes onto the younger male, not used to the lack of hullaballoo the boy would usually vocalize when ever he steps into the shop. He'd usually hear stories about how one of Daniel's professors would literally rant to the class his personal issues (which are totally unrelated to the subject matter), or about this Jaehwan boy he'd hear randomly belt out the do-re-mi at the most crowded of places. He must admit that he has a voice personally gifted by God Himself, but he shouldn't show it off all the time. It might give Daniel a heart attack one day.

 

 **“** How are you?”, Sungwoon asks, breaking the silence. He sees Daniel jolt from his seat, his hands scrambling to get hold of portfolio from letting it fall. He seems more jumpy, lately.

 

Daniel closes the portfolio and rubs his neck, a habit of his whenever he gets nervous. “Not having the best time, to be honest.”

 

Sungwoon raises his eyebrow in curiosity. “Oh really?” He stands up from the sofa and struts to the computer behind the counter, scrolling through some music to hopefully change the atmosphere as he props his head onto his palm. “Care to elaborate?”

 

 **“** I... kind of got into trouble.”

 

 **“** Oh? Sungwoon inquires, his eyes not leaving the screen. “What kind of trouble?”

 

The sound of a finger tapping the mouse and the constant skipping of tracks echo within the room as Sungwoon waits for his answer.

 

 **“**... Perhaps I painted the school again,” Daniel mutters a second too late.

 

The track stops at a melody reminiscent to early 50's rock and roll as Sungwoon gapes his mouth and glares at the younger's foolishness. “You _what_ ?”

 

 **“** I didn't know I'd get caught again- I swear! Cross my heart,” Daniel assures. He leaves out the second part of the tagline because he definitely does not want to die any time soon.

 

Sungwoon runs his hands through his platinum blonde hair in irritation. This guy, really. “You didn't _know_ \- Daniel, you had everywhere in the world to do that, but at _school_? Do you want to get expelled?”

 

All hints of color drains from Daniel's face upon hearing that word. He looks at every where except Sungwoon, too scared to see the concern and worry in his eyes. He doesn't need to be found out on how true those words were. After all, Sungwoon has too much on his plate as of the moment.

 

Seeing how he won't get an answer anytime soon, Sungwoon shakes his head and facepalms. He may adore Daniel's tenacity, but discipline without action wouldn't bring him to his right mind. “Just- ugh,” he rubs his forehead, “-clean my equipment.”

 

Daniel, looking like a dejected puppy, sorrowfully nods at the older's instructions. He deserves this punishment, after all. He hops off the recliner and rids himself of his outerwear, readying himself for some dirty deeds. He hangs them by the counter and trudges to the parlor's backroom, when Sungwoon stops him for a moment.

 

 **“** Oh- and we ran out of gloves, so you have to clean them with your bare hands. But hey, you’re used to that, right?” Sungwoon snickers as he sees Daniel's incredulous reaction.

 

If only Daniel could tattoo Sungwoon's face with a dick, he would- but he knows he wouldn't live right after.

 

With a dejected smile, he continues his way off to clean the equipment.

 

The moment he touched the cartridges, he knew he'd have a long shower tonight.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Rub._

 

_Rub._

 

_Ouch._

 

The night's icy-cold temperature replicates itself in the form of a cold shower as Daniel rubs his paint-stained arms rid of color, skin turning red from the incessant friction. He sees little to no progress from it coming off, but after a few more rounds of soap and scrubbing, they leave but a light tint onto his pale skin.

 

He dresses up into a light shirt and shorts after the ordeal and saunters down the stairs, just in time for dinner. He inhales the familiar scent of home cooking as he enters the dining room and plops himself down the table. A large pot of soup is presented in front of him- his mother's specialty. He looks up to his mom and smiles. He's really thankful.

 

His mom mirrors the grin and seats herself across Daniel. They both say grace and dig into their meal.

 

A few minutes pass and his mom notices his colored arms. She lowers down her bowl and swallows her food before asking, “What happened to your arms, honey?”, voice laced with concern.

 

Daniel knows its no use to lie. “Just doing some artsy stuff as usual.”

 

His mom nods her head, yet not fully appeased. “A project of yours?”

 

Daniel chuckles as he slurps on some noodles. “I'm practicing painting lately. Maybe I'll paint you for my finals, who knows.”

 

His mom lets out a hearty laugh, astounded by her son's offer. “Oh please, no! I wouldn't want you to get a low grade.”

 

 **“** Hey,” he shakes his head. How could she look down on herself? “As long as it's you, I'm sure I'd get a perfect grade.”

 

She just chuckles as she continues to eat. “As long as you're happy, dear.”

 

Daniel looks at his food as if its the most interesting thing in the world. “Don't worry about it.”

 

They continue their dinner in comfortable silence.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 **“** I hate required events.”

 

In the midst of a barrage of unidentifiable noises and underslept students lie two friends who are tired of everyone's shit.

 

 **“** I get that we're supposed to support each other's craft and all. But I have to practice for my recital soon- and I don't think spending more than an hour in line is going to help me get an A, that's for sure.”, Jaehwan lashes out to Daniel. _Ah, the sentiments of a musician._ “But I have to say, staying here helped me warm my body up, so that's a silver lining.”

 

Daniel just hums in response, hands deep into his coat pockets, wary of any sign of authority that could spot his tainted arms. “What's the play about again?”, he asks Jaehwan who was in the middle of yawning.

 

Jaehwan gazes over the occupied hallway in search of any poster or brochure which would give them the idea of the play they're 'encouraged' to watch in the first place. He squints his eyes, trying to take a peek at the stubs the ticket-holders have, yet to no avail. “Beats me. We'll know once we get there.”

 

Daniel is thankful that they're third in line- he doesn't think his bladder would last for another thirty minutes. Damn drinking before class.

 

The line moves as two girls giggle as they retrieve their tickets, Jaehwan giving them the side-eye as they hold onto them a few seconds too long before they leave. Is the play that great that they're blushing from excitement?

 

The two step ahead and were enlightened to see why.

 

The person in charge of distributing the tickets was no other than Ong Seongwoo, skilled theatre actor and face genius of their department. Jaehwan must applaud their marketing tactics for putting such a sought-after student in the middle of a lion's den. A single pringle but probably not available to mingle, Seongwoo greets them with a megawatt smile. Perhaps Jaehwan's heart skipped a beat.

 

 **“** Hey there!”, Seongwoo greets. “Tickets for two?”

 

Daniel's not sure if he was acting, but damn does he know how to talk to people. “Yep, just two.”

 

 **“** Alrighty then.” Seongwoo picks up two tickets from the side and hands it to them. “That would be 20,000 won, please.”

 

Daniel eyes the pair of tickets as he begrudgingly pulls out his wallet and ever so slowly opens it. He peeks through its contents to see a single 10,000 won bill crumpled within its flaps. Guess he's walking home again later. He hands the forlorn bill along with Jaehwan's own in exchange of some petty stub.

 

Seongwoo once again flashes his blinding smile as he receives the money and places it into a metal container along with other ill-gotten wealth. “Thanks for your support!”, he says as he eyes the next pair in line, signalling them to leave.

 

Stepping out of the line and into the less occupied university hallways, the chilly breeze welcomes their pre-heated bodies to the frosty reality which is school.

 

 **“** Ahh really, we could've gotten our ramen tomorrow, but _no-_ we have to watch some stupid play,” Jaehwan rants once again.

 

Daniel begs to differ. “Hey, it couldn't be that bad,” he says trying to light up his friend's mood.

 

Jaehwan just sighs in response, too stressed to think about trivial extra-curricular matters. “Whatever- I'll be going to practice now. Jisung-hyung's probably shaking in his boots right now, wondering why I'm taking so long.”

 

They stop by the lounge's intersection connecting the music and theatre departments. “Hit me up when you know what that play is about. Maybe then I'll be interested,” Jaehwan says as he pats Daniel's back and goes on his way.

 

As Daniel leaves the building to go to his own department and relieve his bladder, he spots a promotional poster of the play in question. The title reads _History Boys i_ n bold, copper letters. Humming, he whips out his phone and informs his musically-inclined friend of the said production's name.

 

The message goes green, signifying it being sent, and Daniel saunters on his way.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Daniel passes by a small alleyway home. It seemed like the perfect place to spray-paint; hidden, pristine, and out of everyone's judging eyes. He opens his sling bag and brings out an almost empty spray can. With a few shakes of the can, he sprays his initials onto the wall, the bright orange a great contrast to the dull grays of the olden blocks.

 

It's moments like these where he can truly be himself.

 

He tilts his head, appreciates his work, and puts back the can into his bag. He can go back home for now and paint it clean again on another day.

 

As he was about to leave, he hears a faint mewl just around him. His eyes search left and right, but no source of the sound in sight. He then looks down, his eyes then meeting a small cardboard box with two kittens inside. His heart wrenches at the sight. How could someone abandon two innocent angels like this? Hell, he couldn't leave them like this- not that he knows they're there.

 

He picks up the two kittens and tucks them inside his coat pocket, warming them up as he leaves the alleyway and heads home.

 

He hopes his mother likes the new additions to the family.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel finishes washing the dishes from dinner and he plops down onto his bed, scrolling through his phone and searching for something worthwhile to give a fuck about. He searches for more tattoo art inspirations, hoping to nullify Sungwoon's disappointment through a few more charming contributions.

 

He gazes across the room to see the two newly-fed kittens sleeping peacefully into their warm blankets, courtesy of Kang Daniel himself. He pats himself on the back for doing such a wonderful job. Thankfully, his mother was okay with having animals in the house. Ecstatic, even. 'It gives me company knowing that you always take so long to come home!,' she says.

 

He stops midway from his daydreaming and remembers the play they are required to watch. _History Boys_ . 'What kind of name is that?', Daniel thinks. Willing to fill in his curiosity, he searches the synopsis of the said play, hoping to appease his sudden interest.

 

Maybe he'd have to write a reaction paper about it, who knows.

 

Daniel goes back to the alleyway to pay for his sins, a bucket of white paint on one hand and a thick brush on the other. He expects an hour-long sermon from authorities if he is caught red-handed.

 

What he doesn't expect was a boy in the exact same spot in front of his curio.

 

Is he going to get shitted on for such a malicious deed? Be punched in the gut as a consequence for his actions? Such questions enter Daniel's mind as he hides behind the dumpster.

 

The boy crouches on the ground, a small carton of milk in hand, concern glazed upon his eyes as he looks at the faint remains of shedded fur of the box. He sniffs and stands up, tightening the scarf around his neck as he turns to leave to secret place. He doesn't spare a glance at the bright hues sprayed on the wall, too concerned about the lives of two innocent beings gone from their sanctuary.

 

Daniel's paintbrush had the audacity to clank onto the ground. Daniel curses himself in his head.

 

The boy turns around at the sudden noise, searching for the source, yet sees nothing and nobody which could have done it. He then notices the vandal on the wall, reactionless. He sighs and leaves, leaving behind the milk carton in hopes of the kittens coming back for food.

 

Daniel steps out of his hiding place, thankful that he wasn't caught. He strides in front of his masterpiece and rights his wrongs. He wonders why the boy didn't react to what he expected. Disgust, probably- but there was nothing. Expressionless.

 

It doesn't matter. To each their own.

 

He finishes his business and brings the milk carton home for the kittens.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Multitudes of canvasses are arranged into an almost-perfect circle, each student having their own workspace for the class. The activity for the day involves oil painting, and Daniel must say he has a soft spot for the subject. It involves paint, after all.

 

An elongated platform clothed with cream-colored linen covers the contraption, awaiting its model.

 

Seated near Daniel is Lai KuanLin, a timid yet insanely talented foreign student from Daniel's department. Daniel took peeks a few times they had activities like these and his jaw would always drop from the other's techniques and eye for detail. His color palettes would most of the time be spot on onto the real thing, the shadows, the saturation- everything, perfect. A classic example of a fine artist.

 

Daniel doesn't define himself as a fine artist, oh no. He's just an _artist_ \- a person who does any art form, be it performance, sculpture, or tapestry. An artist expresses themselves through their own way of art, and that's how Daniel likes it.

 

 **“** I heard we're having a model today,” KuanLin leans in and mutters the tea to Daniel as the class waits for their subject to enter the class. “They're one of the theatre actors.”

 

 **“** Theatre? Then maybe it's Ong Seongwoo,” Daniel jokes. It would be nearly impossible to book Seongwoo for anything at this moment in time, the said man busying himself with all the phases of production for the successful run of the play- along being part of the main cast and all.

 

KuanLin chuckles as he toys with the brushes beside him, the newly-washed tools ignorant of their impending sully. “I doubt it. Our concept is quite controversial today- a large sum of the student body being would be dying to know how he'd look like within these walls.”

 

How controversial could it be to be the talk of the town?

 

The class breaks their conversations with one another as the creaking of the door signals the entrance of their subject.

 

Daniel basks in the person's familiarity, yet he couldn't quite make the face with all the students and supplies blocking his view.

 

 **“** Good afternoon,” the boy announces, his masculine voice a contrast to his soft features. He fiddle with his fingers behind his back, nervous. “I'm Park Jihoon, the model for today. Please take care of me,” he ends with a bow.

 

A chorus of 'thank yous' and 'we'll work hard' echo in the enclosed space, passersby unpermitted to see what's going on inside.

 

The model takes slow steps onto the platform, eyes glazing over the residents of the class. Dried paint stains on the wooden floor, natural light entering through the windows, and intent eyes observing his every movement, hands grasping onto their brushes, ready for battle.

 

The moment Jihoon faces Daniel's general direction, that's when the blonde boy knew. It was the brokenhearted boy who visited the cats, saddened to see that they were no more. Cheeks flushed, eyes watery, and hair fluffed- that's how he remembered him.

 

Daniel can't explain, but he can't seem to pry his gaze off from the model- a magnet polarizing every bit of attraction in his body. He sees the other students pour their paints onto their boards, concocting the perfect color palette for their art piece. He shakes his head, trying to bring himself back to reality, and readies his own supplies.

 

When he looks back, the model is stripped of his upper clothing, honey skin exposed onto hungry predatory eyes. Auburn hair slightly deshivelled, Jihoon rids himself of his pants and steps out of them, tidying his apparel just below the platform. He returns atop, his undergarments his only source of protection against the judging environment. He breathes out to calm his nerves, then goes on to sit down atop the linen, hugging his knees close to his body- the image reminiscent of an angel clipped of its wings. One of his hands holds onto his shoulder as he gazes down, his bangs slightly covering his line of sight.

 

 _Ethereal_ , that's how Daniel would describe the image in front of him. From a fully-clothed boy to a barely-covered man, he didn't expect to see the duality of the model in the span of just two days. As an artist, the only person you can judge is yourself. For others, you critique- but not talk ill about.

 

His brush sashaying its honey-colored hues onto the plain canvas, Daniel wonders if the boy would consider modelling such a vulnerable position again- but for his eyes only. A special lesson for the two of them. He imagines the skin as supple as ever, eyes encompassing the galaxy within them, body flushed in all the right places.

 

He peers onto KuanLin's canvas and the prodigy is doing amazing as usual. If Daniel could compare the younger's work, it would be something that came out of early Roman times; akin to those curated from Pompeii, if you will.

 

Daniel focuses back onto his work and continues to paint the heavenly being, celestial eyes looking directly at him.

 

Newly painted murals are left in solace to dry, the fresco of a singular subject etched onto its surface.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Its been a minute since the bell rang but Daniel finds himself alone with the model from earlier, taking his time to dress up. Being the only two people in the room, Daniel sums up his courage and approaches the theatre major. He pats his unclothed shoulder, Jihoon jolting in surprise as he turns to Daniel, eyes wide in preemptive shock.

 

 **“** Yes?”, Jihoon questions, the arms of his mustard sweater halfway through his limbs.

 

Perhaps Daniel didn't have anything to say in mind.

 

Jiihoon tilts his head at the arts major, continuing to clothe himself as he waits for the taller to utter anything resembling a sentence.

 

 **“** Uhm, do you...” Daniel starts, rubbing his nape but before his fingers could touch his expanse of skin, Jihoon grabs his arm and lays it by his side.

 

 **“** Your hand's full of paint- it might stain your neck,” Jihoon explains as he retracts his hand, Daniel's forearm missing the split second of touch.

 

Daniel clears his throat. “Thank you, uhm...”

 

 **“** Jihoon,” the model replies, patting his clothes down as he stares at Daniel. “Were you going to ask something?”

 

 **“** Is it okay if you could model again for me sometime?” Daniel doesn't expect a direct answer any time soon. “I mean, if it's okay with you. I kind of got the lighting wrong a while ago and I was wondering if I could paint you again... it's sort of a requirement.”

 

Jihoon ponders on the offer. “What's in it for me?” he questions, eyebrow raised awaiting for his model benefits. Daniel can't blame him, though- being a model is a strenuous job even if they're just frozen in one position the whole time.

 

Daniel shrugs. “We can discuss it over coffee, perhaps?”

 

Jihoon checks the clock hanging on the mural-spangled walls.

 

 _4:38pm. Just enough time to talk_.

 

He blinks at Daniel, considering the sudden offer, and nods. “Sure.”

 

Daniel takes a step back and grins, the younger's eyes reflecting his own sense of mirth.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The smell of roasted coffee beans waft in the air. Rows of various pastries line up the display counter along with its respective price. Shades of earthen brown colors fill the miniscule coffee shop, the sun slowly setting down in the horizon. Seated by the shop's larger-than-life window are two people engrossed in whatever conversation they have- a brunette boy with a mustard sweater, and a blonde counterpart with a grey coat.

 

Jihoon stirs his glass of americano with his straw, the moist of the ice cubes seeping through the surrounding tissue as he ponders on Daniel's request. “For an artist, you sure are persistent in making me your model. You can pick anyone at the snap of your fingers, to be honest.” He takes a long sip, breathes out the bitter drink, and continues. “I think the reason you decided to choose me again is because you saw me half-naked first hand.”

 

Daniel shrugs as he warms his hands around his latte-filled mug. He can't retaliate about that- what he's saying is true. “I just think it'd look better if it was you.” He looks into Jihoon's celestial orbs, anticipating any reaction of surprise from the other. He decides to rile him up just a tiny bit. “Is that how highly you think of us?” he asks, smirking. “That we can choose whoever we want?”

 

 **“** I've encountered some... interesting people in your department.” Jihoon answers, unfazed. Jihoon was casted to be a model for art piece of numerous students countless of times, but he declined every time. Not because he wasn't interested- he was always ready to help a fellow student in need. It’s just that whenever he'd be asked upfront about it, he could see that his presence is not all that they're asking for.

 

 **“** Then maybe I can appoint Ong Seongwoo then if that's how you'd put it.” It’s the nth time Daniel has said that man's name, but there's something about him that he can't pinpoint. Is this the Seongwoo effect? That the moment you encounter him, he's all that fills your mind until you die?

 

Jihoon chuckles in his seat, his nose scrunching. He lays his chin on his palm and looks at Daniel directly in the eye. “Oh, I doubt it.” He stirs his glass again with his free hand, the liquid's spinning motion forming what seems to be a black hole. “He's nearly untouchable.”

 

Daniel raises his eyebrow at the newfound information, taking a light sip of his drink as he slowly lays it down on their shared table. “You're in the same department, though?”

 

 **“** Well, that's true,” Jihoon replies. “I get to talk to him sometimes but it's all production-related stuff. As much as I want to be close to him, I can't really reach him onto a more personal level.”

 

Daniel notices the way Jihoon's shoulders droop after sharing his sentiments. His long eyelashes move with every blink, lips parted in wonder.

 

 **“** I want to be like Ong Seongwoo.”

 

Daniel chokes on his drink, surprised at the younger's sudden confession about the man of the hour. Jihoon grabs a piece of tissue and hands it to Daniel, the other taking it, their hands lingering on each other longer than expected before the blonde pats his mouth clean.

 

Daniel crumples the tissue and clutches it in his hand. “Why can't you just be yourself, though?” he inquires, curious to why Jihoon would say such a thing.

 

Jihoon grins and shakes his head as he looks out the window, the street lights switching on one after the other into the dusk. “Well, for actors, you're rarely yourself.” Jihoon's sigh fogs the glass. He notices the aftermath and he wipes it down with the end of his sweater and smiles, satisfied.

 

For the hour that Daniel spent with Jihoon so far, he perceives the actor as an enigma- difficult to understand, yet with every passing second, the more you become invested into understanding it. He stares the the boy in front of him; puzzling yet straightforward, dubious yet charming, pure yet seductive. He wanted to know more about him. Be a part of his world. Be more than just an artist in search of a muse.

 

He wanted to go deeper.

 

 **“** How did you get into acting?” Daniel asks not so out of the blue. If Jihoon wanted someone to be personal with, Daniel is willing to offer himself.

 

Jihoon blinks once, twice at Daniel's inquiry. With the walls that he built throughout the years, there seems to be a crack somewhere in between because that single question may break through them real soon. He doesn't exactly know why, but it feels like he could disclose a thing or two about himself to the man in front of him. After all, it's not a secret he's exposing.

 

 **“** My parents say I've always been good at it I guess. I was casted into different acting programs and from that, I decided to pursue it as a full time career.”

 

 **“** It was all you? You weren't forced?”, Daniel interjected.

 

Jihoon shook his head, disregarding the comment. “Nope, it was all me. I learned to love it along the way.” His eyes shine brighter. “Theatre is amazing; the effort put into it is superb. Everyone involved is passionate both onstage and backstage, each doing their own part.” Jihoon took multiple sips in between, the glass half way empty. “I wanted to be like that. Helpful, I mean.”

 

Daniel cocks his head to the side. “Does this mean...”

 

Jihoon nods shyly as he rubs his nape, looking everywhere except at Daniel's general direction. “Yep, I guess so.”

 

It's amazing how such a person could feel that way, totally sure of what he wants to do- unlike Daniel who still views his future as a hazy misconception of success and growth. But hey, they're both young and they still have so much to learn about the world, still searching for a place where they belong before settling down.

 

How wonderful it is that Daniel had a chance to meet Park Jihoon in this lifetime.

 

 **“** We should meet again sometime,” Daniel admits, enamored with the younger's presence.

 

 **“** Aren't we already going to, though?” Jihoon asks, leaning in closer. “You said you're going to paint me.”

 

Daniel lightly shakes his head as he takes the last few drops of his drink, placing it down and licking his lips for any remnants of foam. “Let's forget about school for a little while.”

 **“** I'm down for it,” Jihoon answers, sipping his drink as it runs out as well.

 

Daniel sinks into his seat and crosses his arms, satisfied with the younger's response. “Great.”

 

Finally something to look forward to.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

And that time came sooner than expected with Daniel inviting Jihoon to one of Jaehwan's gigs downtown, just a few days after their little caffeine rendezvous.

 

It's a quarter until 11pm and the two found themselves seated across from each other, basking in the yellow night light as the sound of heavenly vocals reach the ears of the bar's residents. Three bottles of soju are placed atop a glass table, with two glasses half-full.

 

Daniel is not sure where to focus his attention to- his best friend who's having his moment on stage, guitar in hand or on Jihoon with his black low-cut sweater, his collarbones dangerously peeking through the rim, as if teasing the older to take a peek.

 

 **“** Tell me the truth,” a half-tipsy Jihoon asks the very sober Daniel, “-are you here to support your friend or get me drunk?”

 

Daniel chuckles, the alcohol's heat emanating through his skin. “What if I told you that its both?” He leans down to the table and grabs the glass, downing it in one shot. “To loosen you up a bit more. To keep you away from stress.”

 

 **“** More like stress needs to keep away from _me_ ,” the younger darts back. He fans himself with both of his hands, the bar's humidity taking a toll to him.

 

 **“** Aren't you used to this kind of setting? Don't you have, like, after parties after every production?” Daniel asks, genuinely interested about how the boy's world is like. He rests his elbows on his clothed thighs, ripped jeans accentuating his muscular legs.

 

The bar's dim lights creates shadows amongst its patrons, Jihoon's curves and edges emphasized through his every twist and turn on the maroon leatherette couch. Daniel can't tell whether he's uncomfortable or not, but from the looks of it, he seemed to having a good time.

 

Jihoon hiccups. “Of course we have,” voice slurring as he downs another shot. “I just don't participate as much.”

 

 **“** Avoiding the drama?” Daniel asks as he pours another drink for the both of them.

 

Jihoon nods. “Mostly that.”

 

It must be the alcohol getting to him, but Daniel likes the way Jihoon looks tonight. Flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, and a generously-cut top- maybe should reconsider painting someone else, too selfish to expose Jihoon to hungry eyes.

 

Jihoon, on the other hand, props his arm on the couch's armrest, observing Jaehwan who's performing his third set for the night. He taps his feet to the beat of the songs, mouthing the lyrics as he lets himself go. No acting, no modelling- it's all pure, unadulterated Park Jihoon.

 

Jihoon pulls Daniel into his axis, unaware of the effect it has on the artist.

 

 **“** Excuse me,” a husky voice asks, the music blending in with the question, “-may we sit here?”

 

Daniel looks up from a frazzled Jihoon and sees no other than Ong Seongwoo, theatre talk of the town. His hair is styled three-fourths, long-sleeved turtleneck accentuating his model-like body, making him seem slimmer than he already is. He sports a friendly grin at the two.

 

 **“** I came with a friend-”, he adds, directing their attention to a slightly taller, nicer-looking lad. The man in questions nods in their direction and smiles warmly. “-it’s a full house and we were looking for seats, then we saw you here. Do you mind?”

 

Daniel's used to giving, so if it were up to him, he'd let them sit down, no questions asked. Yet across him is someone who has the opportunity for a closer company right in front of him, his mind hazy and unable to make any coherent decisions. He needs to take in account his fe-

 

 **“** N-no, come-”, Jihoon tries to utter as he pats the seat beside him, “-come sit down. We don't mind.”

 

As long as Jihoon's okay with it, then Daniel's okay with it, too.

 

Seongwoo thanks them and seats beside Jihoon, the younger evidently elated with the turn of events.

 

Seated beside Daniel is Hwang Minhyun, one of Seongwoo's close friends and student under the music department.

 

 **“** So you know Jaehwan, too?” Daniel inquires as he darts his eyes back and forth to the man in question and to Minhyun.

 

 **“** Of course, everybody knows him,” Minhyun chuckles as he gazes at the platform. “He's insanely talented, no doubt about that.”

 

Daniel is euphoric to hear the recognition his best friend deserves.

 

As the two converse on their similar thoughts about Jaehwan, Seongwoo swings his arm onto Jihoon's shoulders, the other leaning into the touch. Seongwoo eyes the two glasses on the table, then to Jihoon flushed beside him. “I didn't know you drink. I never see you do it whenever we have prod parties.”

 

Jihoon shakes his head. “I only drink with people I like.”

 

Seongwoo hums in acknowledgement, grabbing Jihoon's glass from the table.

 

As Minhyun watches Jaehwan's performance, Daniel watches Seongwoo's advances.

 

 **“** Then you wouldn't mind if I drank with you, too?” Seongwoo asks, the soju-filled shot glass near his lips as he gazes at Jihoon for affirmation.

 

 **“** I like you, so I don't mind,” Jihoon giggles, speech slurry as scootches nearer to the older.

 

Seongwoo chuckles at how adorable the younger is acting, amused to see the usually reserved Park Jihoon into such a vulnerable state. He downs the rest of the alcohol in one sitting and leans closer to a barely sober Jihoon beside him.

 

Daniel tries his best to enjoy the rest of the night.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Daniel finds himself the next day in the same room he first encountered the entity that is Jihoon, sunkissed skin exposed in all its untainted glory. He’s alone- as he should be, putting all his time and energy into this one painting that could either bring him up a year or let him relive the life of being last in the race once more.

 

Jihoon passes by the classroom he first met the blonde man, whose eyes scrunch up in mirth, a single mole located just under his right eye. How he noticed such detail, he doesn’t remember, but he memorizes the man’s features as if he wakes up to it every morning.

 

Stealthily tiptoeing closer unto the unexpecting man in order to not get caught, Jihoon grabs Daniel’s shoulders, shocking the poor boy into oblivion, paintbrush falling in the process as paint splatters onto Daniel's forearms.

 

Daniel harshly turns back to see who cause him such mess, but his eyes softened once he saw who the perpetrator was. Not wanting to back down from a challenge, he smears some paint onto Jihoon's cheeks, the latter giggling from the touch of paint to skin.

 

With paint-stained cheeks, Jihoon settles down onto a chair near Daniel's own and props himself up, leaning near the man's mural. “What are you painting?” he asks, eyes filled with the curiosity of a cat.

 

The subtle beige, the desaturated robin blues- the mixture of sadness and warmth etched onto the clothed canvas is executed through slanted eyes and a loving smile.

 

“It's my mom,” Daniel responds, a slight smile forming at the mention of the love of his life.

 

Jihoon blinks, tilting his head in slight confusion. “Oh? You're not going to paint me anymore?” H e brings his legs up on the stool, hugging them. Just like the first time Daniel saw him, albeit more clothed.

 

 **“** I kind of promised my mom to paint her for my finals,” Daniel confesses, eyes focused onto the canvas. “I said that I'd probably get a higher grade if it was her I painted.” He dips his paintbrush into water, stirring the contents to get rid of its hue. As the brush is stagnant in the glass jar, he turns to Jihoon. “Asking you to be my model was sort of an excuse to know you better.” Half true.

 

 **“** Really, now?” Jihoon taunts, smirking into his seat. “I actually don't mind- I enjoy being with you.” He brings his legs down, swinging them and hands clutching the edge of the seat as he looks at Daniel. “We should hang out again tomorrow.”

 

Daniel raises his eyebrow. “Tomorrow?”

 

Jihoon nods. “I have to practice for the play. You know, the one people are _encouraged_ to watch?” Jihoon air quoting 'encouraged'.

 

Daniel chuckles as he mixes two paints together. “Well, with you being part of it, I guess I have something to look forward to.” He grabs the diluted brush and paints again, unaware of the faint flush of red adorning Jihoon's painted cheeks.

 

Jihoon props himself off the seat and stretches his body, the slight expanse of his stomach peeking out his shirt. “Well, see you tomorrow, Daniel.”

 

Daniel hums. “See you.”

 

As Jihoon ever so gently closes the door of the classroom, Daniel continues to work onto his painting.

 

Or tries to.

 

The blonde man is anxious, unknowing whether what he's doing is right or wrong. He made promises he were willing to keep yet broke some in the process. He tries to make other people happy for the sake of his own gratification, no matter how the outcome would be.

 

The colors are off.

 

The paint's still wet.

 

There's a smudge by the foreground.

 

There's a single tear rolling down his cheeks.

 

Daniel becomes too stressed with himself, too unsure with what he wants and needs to do. A life's calling would be great, but maybe all he needs for now is a hug.

 

Sighing out loud, he stands up from his two-and-a-half hour session and puts away his tools, careful to not let any paint drop anywhere. He picks up his backpack and sways it on his shoulders, giving the mural one last look before swinging the door open.

 

He leaves the painting half done and goes home, the setting sun's rays grazing the unfinished canvas.

 

 

 

* * *

  

 

 

 **“** What's wrong, honey?” Daniel's mom asks him once dinner was finished, hands busy with cleaning the dirty dishes. The said boy stays by the dining table unmoving, staring into nothingness. “You've been coming home late lately- and your arms are always so dirty,” she continues, shaking off the water off the dinnerware as she places them neatly atop the dish racks.

 

Daniel murmurs something his mother couldn't quite understand.

 

 **“** Excuse me?” she asks, wiping off her hands on her apron.

 

 **“** I said it's none of your business,” Daniel huffs, crossing his arms. “Am I not allowed to go out anymore? Stop babying me, I'm not a child anymore.”

 

His mother rests one hand on the kitchen counter, the other on her hip. “Kang Daniel, what has gotten into you?”

 

Daniel doesn't know.

 

Daniel doesn't _want_ to know.

 

He puts his face in his hands, hiding from his mother's glare. “I don't know what I'm doing, okay!?”, he lashes out. “I try my best at everything but it's never enough! I can't do anything right, there's always someone...”

 

He lifts up his face, tear-stained and flushed. “There's always someone better than me.”

 

His mother walks closer to the table, patting her son's back. “Honey, there's no need to rush things.” She then continues to pull a chair and sit beside him, enveloping him in the warm embrace of a mother's love. “You're doing just fine. You're okay, you're okay...” She caresses his hair in an attempt to sooth his sentiments.

 

Daniel lets out his cries, unable to control his overflowing emotions. How could someone still treat him so nicely even after him lashing out at them, spitting hurtful words in their direction? “I'm so s-sorry for not b-being what you want-”

 

 **“** Look at me, Daniel-” she grabs Daniel's face in between her palms, hold tightened. “Don't ever say that. I don't know what you're going through, but I'll always love you no matter what.”

 

The home he could always be safe at.

 

The embrace that keeps him warm.

 

The love that's unrelenting.

 

Daniel captures the picture of his mother, eyes unwavering, skin damp and mouth quirking.

 

Sacrificial love.

 

Love that does not expect anything in return.

 

At that moment, Daniel knows that he's enough, that he'll make it.

 

With comforting words as a blanket of acceptance, the family of two embrace.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Daniel lies on his bed and fumbles on his phone, his other hand petting the healthily-growing kittens snuggled by his side. With a few minutes to spare before going to sleep, he settles on scrolling through instagram.

 

One of the first posts he passes by is Jaehwan's from the night they went out to one of his gigs.

 

 

 

 **jaehwan0527** _so glad things turned out great! just like my face #loveyourself_

 

 

 

The picture shows his best friend taking a selfie in front of the bar's crowd, their faces elated with the absolute blessing of a performance. Jaehwan has his guitar in hand- his pride and joy.

 

One of the comments under the post comes from one of the people who were with Daniel that night.

 

 

 

 **optimushwang:** _see, i told you you'd do great. :)_

 **jaehwan0527 @** **_optimushwang_ ** _don't patronize me hyung lol but thanks for coming!_

 

 

 

Daniel leaves a comment on the post as well, chuckling as he taps 'post'.

 

 

 

 **realdefdanik:** _oppa please notice me! i'm your fan~ uwu_

 

 

 

If Jaehwan was beside him at that very moment, he most probably would have suckerpunched the living daylights out of Daniel. Not a moment later, his phone dings, a notification coming from user jaehwan0527.

 

 

 

 **realdefdanik:** _oppa please notice me! i'm your fan~ uwu_

 **jaehwan0527** ** _@realdefdanik_** _hi~ hope you enjoyed the performance <3_

 

 

 

Leave it to Jaehwan and their cheesy moments.

 

He scrolls past many more posts, from shitposting meme accounts to makeup 'influencers' (for artist purposes, Daniel conjectures), before trying to stifle a yawn. He lays up on his bed, picks up his cats and lays them down on the floor, scared of the potential event of crushing them in his sleep.

 

He stands up to turn of lights, greeted by the silence the world suddenly offers. The room's curtains exhibit faint silhouettes of the activities outside, yet Daniel is ready to call it a day. He feels the carpet beneath the soles of his feet, guiding himself across the expanse of his room, careful to not hit any living and non-living individual. Though his sight is limited, he successfully feels his way to the comfort of his bed, plopping himself down and exhaling upon the contact of relaxation. He blinks his eyes, once, twice, before succumbing to the Sandman's demand-

 

-then his phone vibrates.

 

Daniel curses whoever decides its the perfect time to ruin his sleep cycle. Compiling every fiber of his body, he reaches out to find his phone on the expanse of his bed, clutching the rectangular gadget in his grasp and turns it on, his eyes scrunching from the screen's bright light. His heart skips a beat when he registers the name displayed.

 

 

 

 **_pjihoon99_ ** _messaged you._

 

 

 

His fingers slightly fumbling unlocking his phone, he taps on the notification which reveals an instagram request from the younger boy. Daniel accepts after a hot minute.

 

 

 

**pjihoon99**

hi daniel! i forgot to ask for your number so i went on insta instead...

then i saw jaehwan-hyung's picture and saw your comment

so here i am haha

we're still going to meet up tomorrow, right?

_11:21pm_

 

 

 

As much as Daniel would like to sacrifice his sleeping schedule just to talk to Jihoon, he would; but the emotional luggage he carried throughout the day was too much for his poor body to handle.

 

 

 

**realdefdanik**

oh haha you actually found me

yep tomorrow's great

_11:48pm_

 

 

 

Jihoon replies immediately after.

 

 

 

**pjihoon99**

can we meet near p-101?

around 3pm

_11:48pm_

 

**realdefdanik**

no problem

see you

:)

_Seen, 11:49pm_

 

 

Its okay if Jihoon wouldn't reply; Daniel was feeling drowsy, anyway.

 

He shuts off his phone, lays it to god knows where, stretches his body, and succumbs to the softness of his mattress.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s half until three in the afternoon, the cafeteria hallways preoccupied with a quenched Jaehwan and a not-so-full Daniel passing by its wide path, the latter sporting a few skip in his steps.

 

Jaehwan notices the slight change in his best friend’s demeanor as he attempts to stifle an upcoming yawn. “You seem a little…”

 

A yawn.

 

“... happier lately. Was it because of the food?”

 

Daniel tries to hide his smile as he glances at his sleepy friend. “Oh really? I haven’t noticed.” He stops his skipping agenda and proceeds to walk normally. “And nah, it’s not the food. Nothing can still compare to the ramen place downtown.” Daniel salivates at the mere mention of the food.

 

 **“** Ah, true that,” Jaehwan says, nodding. He looks back at Daniel, the latter’s face having a difficult time stifling his grin. “Are you perhaps… meeting someone then?”

 

Daniel trips on air. “W-what? How could you say that?”, he stutters, nervousness obvious.

 

Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “Niel, I’ve known you for god knows how long- and I’m pretty sure this is one of those times you’re walking on fucking sunshine, sunshine.”

 

Daniel gasps at Jaehwan’s harsh yet truthful words. “Watch your profanity!”, he whisper-shouts.

 

Jaehwan gasps at the reaction, pointing an accusatory finger at the taller. “Guilty as charged!” He peers his eyes at Daniel, the latter obviously uncomfortable at the gesture. “Is it the guy you were at the bar with?”

 

 **“** Pfft- no,” Daniel answers, gaze wavering.

 

 **“** You lying son of a bitch.”

 

 **“** Fine, yeah, you caught me,” Daniel confesses, raising his arms over his head. “Oh, arrest me, officer- I’ve been a bad boy.”

 

Jaehwan just chuckles at the younger’s antics. “Kinky.”

 

 **“** God, please stop,” Daniel pleads, a light shade of pink blushed on his pale cheeks. “We’re just going to hang out, that’s all.”

 

 **“** Yeah, and I’m two hundred meters tall.”

 

Daniel just hums, knowing that he’ll never hear the end of it from the oh-so-cunning Kim Jaehwan. “Well now if you’d excuse me, I have someone to pick up.”

 

Jaehwan whistles as he slaps Daniel on the back. “Get it, cowboy.”

 

Daniel cringes at both the impact of Jaehwan’s palm against his back and the use of such lingo by the man. Who the heck uses the term cowboy nowadays?

 

The two part ways, with Daniel going to the theatre department and Jaehwan to his own.

 

From a distance, Daniel hears Jaehwan calling someone’s name, the voice bouncing off the walls. He stops in his tracks, turns his head, and at the corner of his eye sees Hwang Minhyun hugging an obviously flustered Jaehwan.

 

He even had the audacity to accuse him of picking someone up while he himself is doing the same thing- but hey, what are best friends for, right?

 

He continues on his way, a grin on his face knowing that his friend is as happy as he is.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel arrives at the meeting place a little bit earlier than expected, the hallways devoid of any living being in front of room P-101. He feels quite out of place, being in the unfamiliar environment of a department he has a love-hate relationship with. The structure of the school wing doesn’t look much different as of his own, a few posters hanging off of cork boards for casting calls, production meetings and whatnot splayed on the cream walls.

 

He continues to walk in front of the said classroom, passing the time by scanning through pubmats which pique his art-filled interest. One of them being the much awaited “History Boys”, of course. Daniel thinks the poster needs a revamp- they surely need to hire some professional help in terms of design. Who mixes copper and moss these days? Definitely not him.

 

Ten minutes left yet still no sight of Jihoon. Daniel starts to feel jittery, scared by the possibility of the younger bailing out on him. But no- he asked Daniel in the first place, so it would push through, right?

 

With such thoughts in his head, Daniel peeks inside P-101, curious to see the daily life of actors and actresses-to-be - only to see Jihoon himself, the familiar tuft of fluffy brown hair atop honey skin and galaxy eyes.

 

Daniel’s eyes brighten up, seeing Jihoon was inside the whole time. He slightly opens the room’s door and takes a step inside. “Jihoon-”

 

-only to realize that he was not alone.

 

Towering in front of a slightly frazzled Park Jihoon was none other than Ong Seongwoo, hands placed on top of the teacher’s desk, trapping the younger inbetween.

 

The two doesn’t seem to notice the entrance of an audience member, continuing their silent exchange.

 

Seongwoo props Jihoon onto the wooden desk, nipping along his neck, the younger flustered by what he’s doing to him.

 

Jihoon grabs onto Seongwoo’s shoulders, shallow gasps escaping his mouth from the older’s ministrations. He has seen numerous students making out backstage (joke’s on them- Jihoon knows every nook and cranny of the stage like the back of his hand) and couldn’t fathom why these people can’t control their hormones and keep it in their pants. Yet there he is, being taken care of by Seongwoo- who is clearly experienced with the act by how much he’s making him feel good at the moment.

 

 **“** Ah, n-no, people might s-see… Hmm...” Jihoon struggles to voice out, his hands travelling from Seongwoo’s shoulders to his nape.

 

Seongwoo retreats from Jihoon’s neck and looks straight at Jihoon with vivacity in his eyes. “Shh, don’t worry about it,” he whispers. He pecks Jihoon’s jaw. “No one will know.”

 

Seongwoo shuts Jihoon up with his mouth, his tongue seeking for entrance through the younger’s cherry chapped lips.

 

Jihoon eventually gives in, intoxicated with the taste of bitter coffee the older drank beforehand.

 

Seongwoo goes deeper and deeper with more fervor, holding the younger by his hips.

 

Jihoon tries to suppress his moans, but Daniel can hear it as if he was right beside them.

 

Unmoving from the halfway-opened door, Daniel’s aware that what he’s doing is wrong, he shouldn’t be watching- yet he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the activity in front of him.

 

This wasn’t the kind of vulnerability that Daniel wanted from Jihoon. Not like this.

 

How did this all happen?

 

How did the two become close…

 

 **…** oh so, so close?

 

And why does Daniel feel disappointed about it?

 

 **“** Hyung... S-seongwoo ah..”, Jihoon breathes out, gasping for air as Seongwoo sneaks his hand under his sweater and caresses the skin hidden underneath.

 

Seongwoo pecks the younger’s swollen lips in assurance. “I’m here baby,” another peck on his forehead, “I’m here.”

 

Daniel is also there, but go off, I guess. Unable to bear witness to such intimacy for any longer, the said man walks off and leaves them be, an unpleasant feeling heavy in his chest. He trudges along the hallways, the posters seeming colorless as to its smorgasbord of palettes just a few minutes prior.

 

Seeing the sign for the men’s bathroom, Daniel quickly storms in, enters a cubicle and locks himself in, finding a way to calm his nerves.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Its 3:12pm and Daniel passes by P-101, Seongwoo nowhere in sight. He sees a semi fucked-up Jihoon rocking on the balls of his feet, hands clasped behind him. The younger’s face brightens up as he sees Daniel approaching him.

 

 **“** I thought you bailed on me,” Jihoon chuckles. His expression slightly falls, noticing the dampened mood of the taller, eyes directed to the floor. “... Are you okay?” He takes a step closer to Daniel, the latter finally looking up.

 

Daniel notices the slightly bruised lips the younger is sporting, unconsciously licking his own in the process. “Uhm, I don’t think we can hang out today,” he confesses, rubbing his nape. “Something came up. I’m sorry.”

 

Daniel doesn’t want to see the disappointment etched on Jihoon’s face- he might not handle the emotional repercussion. He tries to lift up the situation. “Maybe next time,” he pats the younger’s disheveled hair, his thoughts flashing back to the moment Seongwoo caressed them. “Okay?”

 

Pouting, Jihoon nods. “Okay, next time…” He looks up at Daniel, eyebrows slightly drooping. “I understand.” He bites his lips and deep inside Daniel wants him to stop. If Jihoon keeps on being like this, he wouldn’t know what to do.

 

Daniel retracts his hand and puts it inside his pocket, giving a half-hearted smile to the younger. He takes his leave, leaving a perplexed Jihoon behind on the abandoned theatre corridor.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Daniel crashes into the tattoo shop an hour after.

 

 **“** Ah, Daniel! I have good news for you, buddy-” Sungwoon expresses joyfully as he places a stack of portfolios by the counter. “-there’s this one customer who had one of your designs inked. It was pretty _peculiar,_ they said.”

 

Daniel hums, disinterested, the news from Sungwoon passing through his brain after momentarily processing the information. He throws his bag onto the couch and slumps his body over its velveteen covers, crossing his arms and huffing his dismay into the world.

 

Sungwoon looks at the overgrown puppy splayed on his newly-vacuumed couch, appalled with such indecent behavior. Daniel knows how much Sungwoon likes to keep the place spick-and-span for the sanitation’s sake (he’s running a tattoo parlor, after all), yet there he is- all robed up without a care. “Does there seem to be a problem, Daniel?” he cautiously asks, resting his elbow on the counter.

 

Daniel grunts. “Teenager problems, no big deal.”

 

Sungwoon hums, totally not buying it. “Maybe I could help.”

 

Daniel doesn't meet Sungwoon's concerned eyes, too focused on his feet.

 

“Come on Daniel, I've been like you once,” Sungwoon says, trying to convince the younger. Fraternity parties, midnight getaways, sneaking out of the house, relentless heartbreaks; Sungwoon's experienced them all.

 

Daniel doesn't make a sound.

 

Sungwoon huffs, knowing that prodding the young adult would do no such progress. He pouts, thinking for something that could lift the younger's spirits. “Okay, rather than me asking you questions,” Sungwoon says as he walks in front of Daniel, the latter finally looking up, “-you can ask me.” He hops onto the space beside Daniel, resting his elbows on his thighs.

 

Thinking about it, Daniel hasn't really asked Sungwoon some _personal_ questions every since they've met one faithful afternoon with him running away from authorities due to implied 'vandalism'. Yet again, he defends his act saying that it's art, pleading to Sungwoon that he needed to hide for just a while until the coast is clear. Of course, Sungwoon accepts.

 

 **“** So you own a tattoo shop,” Daniel starts off.

 

“Yes.”

 

“But,” Daniel continues, raking his eyes up to the available expanse of skin across Sungwoon's body, “-you don't have any tattoos.”

 

Contrary to his reputation, Ha Sungwoon doesn't seem to have a speck of ink on his seemlingly pristine , milky white skin-

 

“But that's where you're wrong, kiddo-” Sungwoon chuckles. “I actually do!”

 

Daniel slightly jolts in his seat, turning his head to the shop owner. “Are you for real?”

 

“I'm telling the truth!” Sungwoon defends, raising his hands above his head. “Let's just say it's inked somewhere pre-tty private,” he adds, a glint in his eyes.

 

Daniel pouts, yet still invested in the matter. “What is it, though? A quote? An animal? Your mom?”

 

The older clasps his hands together, debating with himself on whether he should say the truth full out or hinder the curious boy from it- so he decides to do both. “Let's just say it's some dark past shit,” he confesses. “I don't regret it, though- I treasure it.”

 

Daniel gasps in disbelief, unswayed by Sungwoon's testimony. “How can you not, though? It's on you for life!”

 

“Well, some people would rather experience certain things rather not encounter them at all.” Sungwoon beams, a small dimple showing. “Like me, for instance.”

 

Though there is no concrete example shown to him, Daniel somehow understands what the older is trying to say. “I wonder how that went.”

 

Sungwoon shrugs, choosing to not answer the question.

 

The two sit in silence, the usual punk rock resounding from the shop's built-in speakers.

 

Daniel taps his foot to the beat. “You have great taste in music, by the way,” he comments.

 

Sungwoon bops his head. “Thanks. Hear it all the time.” He gazes at Daniel, a mischevious look emanating. “Want some delivery food?”

 

Daniel snickers. “You know me too well.”

 

The older stands up from the couch and stretches his entire body, arms in the air, a few pops heard here and there. He walks to the counter and dials the usual.

 

Unbeknownst to Sungwoon, Daniel saw a little peek of skin while he was stretching, a slightly faded tattoo with the letters 'N.T.H.' etched on it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Daniel feels a little better the next few days despite certain circumstances.

 

He always feels like he's on high alert, on his toes whenever a student with even the slightest resemblance to Park Jihoon would enter his peripheral vision. He hasn't talked to the said boy ever since 'that' incident, having an emotional heart and hardy mind preventing him from meeting the person face-to-face. He hasn't even read the messages Jihoon sent him, asking things like 'can we meet?', 'are you okay?', and 'I'm sorry if I'm bothering you' through Instagram. Daniel feels like a complete asshole right now, but hey, anything to keep himself sane, right?

 

“You look like you're in a pickle my friend,” Jaehwan says, eyes not leaving his cellphone as they both walk along the semi-bustling streets of a shopping district close to their university. Once again, a smart business choice. His fingertips quickly tap on the lit screen with every _ding_ it makes, a small smile blooming on his face every time it happens.

 

Daniel grunts, the cold breeze hitting him on his face- he's pretty sure his scarf is not doing a good job keeping him safe from the frosty air. He sighs, his warm breathe creating fog. “I _am_ the pickle, Jaehwan.” Sour, salty, and overall wrinkly.

 

Jaehwan puts his cellphone back into his front pocket and turns to his friend, eyebrow raising in subtle curiosity. “Oh? You haven't gotten laid yet?”

 

“Is that all that really goes into that head yours?” Daniel scoffs as they wait for the pedestrian lights to turn green.

 

Jaehwan gasps in disbelief, putting his hand over is clothed chest. “I can't believe you'd accuse me of thinking of such atrocity!” He lays his hand slack by his side after the small public act. “But yeah, I think about it sometimes. I really thought you've got it on with the Jihoon guy, he kept looking for you lately.”

 

Daniel thought he had something, too- but it turned out for naught. “Didn't happen. He had someone else, I think.”

 

The street light turns green as the two friends cross the road along with fellow pedestrians.

 

“Really?” Jaehwan asks, skeptical. “Doesn't seem the type to fuck around with any body.”

 

Daniel snickers. “Tell me about it.”

 

Bothered by the continuous decreasing temperature they're experiencing, the two settle their cold bodies into a warmed-up cafe.

 

The familiar waft of coffee beans tingles Daniek's senses as the said man looks around the cozy environment- only to realize that it was the same cafe he asked Jihoon out to be his model. As much as he wanted to go to another place, the environment prevented him from doing so.

 

The sienna-palleted cafe is full of people basking in its warmth, not a single table unoccupied.

 

“Man, this sucks,” Jaehwan groans, surveying the setting, until his eyes spot two familiar students he has met before. He walks to the pair, Daniel following like a lost puppy.

 

“Minhyun, Seongwoo-hyung!” Jaehwan greets the two who were chit-chatting on the wooden furniture, coats removed from their bodies.

 

Minhyun looks up at the voice as his eyes turn up in glee, recognizing the man behind it. “Jaehwan! What's up?” He then spots a hooded figure behind the shorter male, recognizing him as well. “Daniel, you too.”

 

At the mention of Daniel's name, Seongwoo turns to the said man and gives out a friendly smile.

 

Daniel didn't expect anything from Seongwoo but he returns the smile, albeit a little perplexed. He shifts awkwardly on his feet, waiting for Jaehwan to continue the awkward greeting with them either staying or leaving the goddamn place.

 

“So me and poor Danny-boy are looking for a seat them we oh-so luckily found you guys here,” Jaehwan starts off, Daniel rolling his eyes behind him.

 

Seongwoo lays his elbow on the table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Go on.”

 

“So we're wondering if... we could sit with you guys?” Jaehwan asks, figeting his fingertips behind him.

 

“Hmm I don't know, Minhyun. Should we?” Seongwoo pries, looking at the said man.

 

“Ah, really,” Minhyun slaps Seongwoo's forearm, the latter laughing. “Stop joking around. Of course you can sit with us.”

 

At least there's an angel around here, Daniel thinks as he and Jaewhan thank the two and take their respective seats across them.

 

Seongwoo doesn't take off his elbow, glancing at the two newcomers. “You two come here often?”, he jokes.

 

Jaehwan shakes his head. “No, just now. It's just really cold outside and we had to hide here for now.” He reminisces the cold breeze on the concrete streets, shivering on his seat at the thought.

 

Minhyun excuses himself from the table to order drinks for them, Jaehwan tagging along. He needed to defrost his cold ass, he says, leaving Daniel and Seongwoo alone.

 

An awkward atmosphere revolves around the two, Daniel usually avoiding Seongwoo's curious chesire eyes who're inspecting each and every inch of him, as if a god is judging the creation of the mortal in his grasp.

 

“I've heard you've been avoiding Park Jihoon recently,” Seongwoo states as-a-matter-of-factly straight onto Daniel's stoic face.

 

As much as how shocked Daniel is to know that _the_ Seongwoo who he saw prior with Jihoon has the audacity to be aware of such news, he tries his best to not show any form of negative reactions. Thus, he just raises his brow as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Oh really? How did you know?”

 

Seongwoo giggles at Daniel's cute attempt to be serious. “I don't know, I just observed.” He must have been looking at them for a long time, then. “I'd see you chat up for a long time- but I don't see it happening recently.” He lifts his head from his palm as he crosses his forearms onto the table, tilting his head. “Is there a problem?”

 

Daniel hates how good looking Seongwoo is despite the latter spiting him. “I't's none of your business.”

 

“Oh? Why so defensive, though? I mean, you're probably not interested in him, right?” Seongwoo asks. Though his question is out of genuine curiosity and not out of ill-will, the projection of his voice seems that way to the targeted man.

 

“What do you care,” Daniel spits out. He's probably looking like a complete douche right now to him and the public, but he can't seem to control his nerves whenever the topic of a certain boy comes up.

 

“Oh, I don't care about what you two do at all,' Seongwoo says as he rests himself on the back of his seat. “I just don't like seeing people being used.” He rakes his eyes up and down Daniek's figure and sighs. “I don't get why some people drop relationships as if it isn't hard enough for the other.”

 

Before anything could get too out of hand, Minhyun and Jaehwan returns to the table, drinks on the tray in their hands.

 

“Sorry if it took a while!” Mihyun beams as he puts down the mugs to their respective owners, giving the tray to a passing waiter as he and Jaehwan sit down, unaware of the tension between their two friends.

 

Seongwoo grins at the two before holding his much, warming up his chilly hands- not before taking a quick glance at Daniel, of course. “Well, cheers to us,” he cajoled, taking the drink between his lips and sipping it.

 

Daniel doesn't talk much for the rest of their stay at the dimly-lit cafe.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Daniel couldn't take it anymore so he manned up, grew some balls, and waited for Jihoon at P-101, three p.m. sharp.

 

He wouldn't justify that Seongwoo's little sermon talked some sense into his head, but he wouldn't acknowledge that it's the truth, either. He agrees that he's been an asshole, removing someone completely in their lives as if they didn't make an impact on them in the first place.

 

Of course Daniel's always wrong.

 

Thankfully, the bell rings as Daniel was on his wit's end waiting for their class to fucking end. The clamor of students grow loud, their voices getting nearer the door as Daniel shifts himself nearer to the lockers and away from his impending doom.

 

The classroom doors open and a handful of students leave the classroom, most of them looking elated for a reason Daniel doesn't know. He spots Jihoon in one of his adorable mustard-colored sweaters clutching his books, leaving to the other end of the hallway. He calls out for him, Jihoon turning with obvious surprise etched on his face as he nods at Daniel and walks away quickly to his destination.

 

Jihoon doesn't want to be the center of attention- not with Daniel around.

 

Daniel sighs as he pushes his hair back. Great, now Jihoon is avoiding him, too. Not minding the judging glares from fellow classmates, he strides between the jumble of bodies and follows Jihoon. He catches up as he turns to the corner of the hallway, the younger not too far off. Not letting go of the opportunity, Daniel grasps Jihoon's forearm and turns him around to face him. “Jihoon, wait, please.”

 

Jihoon tightens his hold onto his books, obviously nervous with the circumstance he's put under. He bites his lips, waiting for whatever the older boy has to explain. “I can't wait anymore, Daniel,” he mutters, tears stinging his eyes, waiting to fall.

 

Daniel's face falls at the thought of Jihoon thinking he's not worth the time, his slightly trembling figure evident from Daniel's touch. “... I'm sorry.”

 

“I-I'm so confused,” Jihoon admits, letting go of his books, his arms laying slack by his side all the while refusing to look at the taller man. He shakes his head as he lets out a low chuckle. “I really don't get you, Kang Daniel.”

 

“I'm sorry for being an asshole and bailing on you,” Daniel confesses, words dripped with sincerity. He guesses that this will be one of those times where he's going to talk ill about himself as much as possible just to ask for forgiveness.

 

Jihoon still feels the other boy's hand caressing his forearm, and he's be lying if he says he doesn't miss his touch. “Yeah, and not talking to me for the past week. Any explanation for that, big guy? Got tired of me already?”

 

Even though Jihoon retaliates with his usual snarky commentary, it's not enough to say that he's completely forgiven Daniel. “I have no excuses,” Daniel mewls. Because honestly? He doesn't have any to begin with.

 

“If there were, I doubt your'e going to share them to me, anyway,” Jihoon laments as he listens to the husky voice he misses so much.

 

“Hey, look at me,” Daniel softly pleads as he uses his free hand to tilt Jihoon's chin upwards and damn, does he miss how he looks. Eyes glazed with tears at the brink of falling, cherry chapped lips freshly bitten- how did he manage to not be in Jihoon's presence for so long?

 

The younger gazes up to him, confusion evident in his eyes, waiting for the taller to utter anything else.

 

Daniel's eyes are filled with fondness, a small smile grazing his face as he looks down upon the sweatered lad. “Let me make it up to you,” he starts off, holding Jihoon's biceps softly with his hands, “-let's go somewhere. Six p.m.?

 

Jihoon's cheeks flush the familiar rosy tint that Daniel loves oh so much, the boy's eyes darting in consideration. “Uhm, okay,” he answers, the feeling of Daniel's touch upon his own doing this to his body. “Why so late, though?”

 

“The painting, remember?” Daniel discloses as he chuckles, letting go of his hold from Jihoon. “I have to finish it by today.”

 

Jihoon gapes his mouth open and nods his head in realization. The painting of his mother, of course. How could he forget? It was supposed to be him in the first place.

 

Daniel doesn't want to leave just when he sees Jihoon again, but his grades are on the line. They'll meet again in a few hours, anyway. “See you later then?”

 

“Of course,” Jihoon says as he watches the other walk away and turn at the corner of the hallway, out of his line of sight. He releases a breath he didn't know he kept for so long, sagging his shoulders in the process. That encounter was really something. How could he have agreed so easily after days of being avoided? Jihoon doesn't know as he waits eagerly for the time to run faster.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Thanks for keeping your word, you dipshit,” Jihoon snorted as he leans on newly-painted, seemingly out-of-place wall of the university. A single streetlight his only source of brightness under the navy blue skies woven with stars, he tilts his head to the advancing figure.

 

With his pale hands and denim jacket splattered with dried paint, Daniel beams he sees the younger who actually waited for him. He stops right in front of him, smiling. “Let's say I'm practicing to be a man of my word,” he says, shrugging.

 

Walking under the pale moonlight, Jihoon looks up at Daniel's illuminated face, admiring how such a man like him exists,walking, living, breathing beside him. “Where are we going?”

 

Daniel hums, eyes straight on the cobbled path they're taking. It's a long way from the school, somewhere Jihoon hasn't traveled to yet at all. “You'll see when we get there.”

 

Daniel hums. "Hmm, you'll see when we get there."

 

Jihoon just nods, trusting Daniel's words. He notices the fog every time he breathes coming out of his mouth, coldness seeping into his body. Summing up his newfound courage, he slides his hand down Daniel's arm and grasps his hand, seeking for it's warmth. If that isn't infatuation, then what is?

 

Daniel tightens his hold onto Jihoon's freezing hand without the intention of letting go as they both walk to their rendezvous in silence.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Where the heck did you take me, Kang Daniel?”

 

Jihoon finds himself in a barren field of grass, his calves sore and breath ragged. A handful of olden rundown structures scattered amongst the vast expanse of abandoned nature.

 

Daniel trudges along the soiled up paths surrounded by pebbles, taking his time admiring the palette of grays and browns.”I go here when I need some inspiration,” he confesses as he kicks a pebble onto the grass.

 

Jihoon follows the wide-shouldered boy, balancing on concrete beams that have fallen off a rundown building. “That's some pretty dark lore coming from that statement,” he comments, losing his step as he nearly falls off the beam and onto the ground.

 

Luckily enough, Daniel's quick reflexes made him able to catch Jihoon, leaving the boy unscathed. He carries him onto the ground and pats his head, a nonverbal reminder signalling to be careful. “Well, I have my reasons.”

 

They arrive at the center of the field, Jihoon's eyes on the brink of popping out of his eye sockets, jaw going slack as he comes to his senses and realizes where Daniel has taken him. “Are those fucking mausoleums?” He jerks his head to the older's direction. “You're weird.”

 

Daniel just chuckles at the younger's sentiments. “Well, I guess it's like me- dying inside.” It's more of like he's dying to embrace Jihoon into his arms and figure out those feelings he has. “Come, this isn't even the best part.”

 

Jihoon raises his eyebrows at the statement, sighing as he follows once more. “Don't tell me you're going to take me to an _actual_ grave,” he mutters, pouting.

 

Daniel laughs at Jihoon's vivid imagination. “Just come with me-”, he says, grabbing Jihoon's hand and entwining their fingers as they trudge through the stone road, their path slowly becoming steep with every passing minute and the air becoming colder the higher they go up.

 

Jihoon looks around and surveys the environment, amazement emanated from his features. He can't believe how abandoned the place is- there's so much structures built my man yet those who created them just left in the end. He looks at his hand being pulled by Daniel, then to the man's broad back covered with his jacket. He must say, Jihoon really missed the big goof.

 

“We're here,” Daniel says, snapping Jihoon out of his trance.

 

Jihoon looks around to see that they've reached the top of a hill, the night the stars bright in the sky, overlooking the plethora of lights emanating from the city below. He sees their campus, it's entire structure looking tiny compared to how Jihoon imagined it to be whenever he was inside. It was always like a maze for him during his first days there, getting lost in the topsy-turvy hallways.

 

“You couldn't see the stars at night with all that pollution down there, it's quite the shame,” Daniel laments, the city lights reflecting through his eyes. He lets go of Jihoon's hand, thinking that the other may be annoyed from being dragged the whole time.

 

Needless to say, Jihoon becomes a little disappointed with the lack of a hand to hold. He jolts in shock when Daniel suddenly screams out of nowhere. “What the-”

 

“Sorry I needed to let that out of my system,” Daniel apologizes, scratching his nape. “Lots of things going on in my head lately.” Daniel then lies down on the grass, his body splayed out, his form reminiscent of a child making snow angels.

 

Jihoon looks at a peaceful Daniel and decides to lay down beside him.

 

They both stare into the vast expanse of he galaxy, comforted by each other's presence, away from all the stress life upholds before them.

 

“I missed this,” Daniel whispers out of the blue.

 

Jihoon turns his head to gaze at Daniel, the latter engrossed in the sky's filled emptiness. “Hmm?”

 

“You being here,” Daniel answers as his eyes meet Jihoon's own. He wouldn't mind gazing into the younger's eyes for a long time either, to be honest. He would never get tired of Park Jihoon.

 

“Well, if you weren't such an asshole then we could've done this earlier,” Jihoon banters, never letting the topic die out.

 

Daniel wants to bring up the topic of the younger being with Seongwoo that time, but he's anxious he'll ruin the mood, ruin everything- not when everything's okay with Jihoon, so he bottles his thoughts up and throws it into god knows where. He breaks eye contact with Jihoon as he gazes back up into the sky, letting his fears pass by.

 

He's slowly zoning out, the tranquility of the moment getting to his senses but suddenly Jihoon props himself onto Daniel's crotch, pinning the man's shoulders down with his arms. Shock doesn't even begin to _explain_ how his heart's thumping at a thousand miles per hour. He never imagined to be in a position like this (or did he?), especially since it's initiated by none other than Jihoon himself.

Jihoon holds Daniel's face inbetween his hands, gazing intently into the surprised orbs glazed with curiosity.

 

With no further ado, he kisses him.

 

It's slow, sweet, innocent- it's not the usual fervor-filled make out sessions Jihoon has experienced before.

 

Daniel, on the other hand, is elated with the fact that his lips are met by the very ones he has pined over for so long. He closes his eyes as he brings up his hands to the back of Jihoon's head, deepening their kiss.

 

A quick peck here, a lingering smack there- a loving gesture in all the right places.

 

Running out of breath, Jihoon reluctantly retracts himself from Daniel, high from their session but uncertainty replacing his prior euphoria. “What are we doing?”, Jihoon whispers in the smallest voice he could muster, heart vulnerable.

 

“I don't exactly know, either,” Daniel confesses because seriously, what have they done to come to a point like this?

 

Steadying their breaths, they gaze into each other's eyes, the galaxy reflecting on both of their orbs glazed with both curiosity and uncertainty.

 

Jihoon caresses Daniel's arms, craving for his touch. He strokes upwards and Daniel's sleeve follows along, revealing his arms stained with hues of all kinds. He looks down at Daniel's paint-stained skin, tracing each splatter with his fingertips. “We should take care of that.”

 

Jihoon props himself off of Daniel and pulls the later up, dragging him to god knows where.

 

Daniel just lets himself be dragged, no questions asked.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It's approximately nine in the evening, the university still open to students taking their night classes. Though not as bustling as the morning crowd, the scholars still have the audacity to be rowdy at a time such as this. Such noise however is stuck into the four walls of their classrooms, each individual having enough brain cells to know that they'll freeze to death in the zero degree weather once they step outside.

 

Basked in the shadows the school provides, Jihoon and Daniel enter the barely lit gym, thankful that nobody has locked it yet even though it's late at night with nobody really playing sports.

 

Daniel always wondered why there was there a need for a physical education class considering they're in an arts academy but hey, he realized soon after that physical wellness is also key to creating incredible art. Healthy body, healthy mind.

 

Daniel lets himself to be continuously dragged by Jihoon to the school's shower rooms yet stays put by the door's entrance, feet stuck to the tiled floors.

 

Jihoon feels a tug and turns to Daniel and spots the man unmoving from his spot. He lets go of his hold on Daniel's hand, his arm going slack to his side.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Daniel asks the younger, whose gaze has retreated to the floor.

 

“We're just removing paint from you,” Jihoon mutters. “Nothing else.”

 

Daniel huffs at the 'nothing else'.

 

Of course, there's nothing between them.

 

There never will be.

 

Semi-convinced, Daniel continues on into the shower rooms and proceeds to rid himself of his clothes. He shoves off his jacket, throwing it to a random wooden bench along with his shirt. He spots Jihoon just sitting right beside the said bench, fiddling with his fingers, biting his lips again from time to time, gazing at nothing.

 

Daniel goes under the shower and turns on the knob, the relaxing warmth of the water soothing his body. There, he rubs his arms rid of paint, going through the same expanse of skin over and over, the same redness appearing from the continuous friction. Of course he had to use oil paint that day- it's waterproof. It'd take a hot minute to remove it off entirely.

 

In the middle of his scrubbing session, he feels a pair of hands rubbing his forearm as well. He turns to see Jihoon getting soaked by the shower head, fully clothed. Daniel turns the knob and the water stops falling, thinking of how much an idiot is for putting himself in such a position like that.

 

Jihoon looks up at the wet-haired blonde as the water stops dripping. “Why did you stop?”

 

“Th-this is wrong,” Daniel remarks, his voice cracking. This whole circumstance is wrong. “We shouldn't be doing this.” He wishes he left the shower head on- now his upcoming tears wouldn't have anything to camouflage with. “What are you doing, Park Jihoon...?” he breathes out, tired and confused with technically just everything.

 

His mother's expectations.

 

His best friend's attainments.

 

A certain someone's comments.

 

His own insecurities.

 

All of these, falling one by one, exposing themselves to Park Jihoon.

 

Jihoon caresses Daniel's back, going through its curves and junctions, his palms feeling the body's warmth onto his own. “Please, I...” He swallows, nervous. “I-”

 

“-Seongwoo.”

 

Daniel feels Jihoon freeze the moment he uttered that name. It's time to come clean before pushing any further. “When we were supposed to meet, I saw the both of you.”

 

The shower room is silent, save for the constant dripping of water from the shower.

 

Jihoon slides his hands down Daniel's arms, guilty to be caught in the act from before, but does not leave his touch from the older's hands, entwining their fingers together. A perfect match. “I didn't know you'd be there so early.”

 

“So why?”, Daniel exasperates, his grip on Jihoon's hands becoming increasingly tighter, the younger wincing a little from the pain. “I don't understand, I _can't_ understand.”

 

“I don't think you will understand even if I'll explain it to you,” Jihoon confesses, his thumbs swiping over Daniel's hands.

 

Daniel thinks it's better if he doesn't know the reality between what transpired between Jihoon and Seongwoo, saving a little bit of sanity for himself. He doesn't want to remember the way they molded so perfectly together, their actions vulnerable to the eyes of those who see them.

 

“... But it was always you,” Jihoon reassures. “It just happened at the wrong time but... all I thought of was you.”

 

Daniel loosens his grip on Jihoon's hands but the latter refuses to let go. “How could you say that so easily?”

 

“I'm saying it because it's true, Daniel, I-” Jihoon's voice gets caught in his throat, his mind hazy from the sudden suspicion from Daniel. He just sighs in frustration, shaking his head, unable to continue his monologue. “You just won't get it.”

 

Daniel recalls what Jihoon had said to him during their first formal meeting with each other, under the warm yellow light of a peculiar cafe.

 

_Jihoon grins and shakes his head as he looks out the window, the street lights switching on one after the other into the dusk. “Well, for actors, you're rarely yourself.” Jihoon's sigh fogs the glass. He notices the aftermath and he wipes it down with the end of his sweater and smiles, satisfied._

 

“Tell me, Jihoon,” Daniel asserts as he takes a step closer to the younger. With breath he takes, every move he makes, every step he takes, Jihoon moves backward each time- until his back meets the tiled wall, his sweater wet from the shower's aftermath. Daniel traps him in between his body and the wall, his arms encasing the vulnerable boy. Glaring at the doe eyes filled with anticipation, he follows the bobbing up and down of his Adam's apple. “The Jihoon in front of me, who is he right now?”

 

Jihoon doesn't back down, unfazed at Daniel's perseverance. He stares back at Daniel's intense glare, unwavering. “He's whoever you want him to be.”

 

Never in a thousand years did Daniel expect for Park Jihoon, a total stranger who he saw in his class, to tell him to do whatever he wants with him. His jaw slacks, unknowing what to respond to the younger. He bites his lips, weighing his options. “What will happen to us after this?”

 

Jihoon links his arms around Daniel's neck, leaning towards the blonde man's face. “Guess we'll have to find out.”

 

And with that, Daniel gives in.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You'll come to the show, right? You'll watch?” Jihoon pleads for the nth time on the actual day of the long-awaited production of _History Boys_ . Daniel would ask who was in charge of the pubmats, but Jihoon's request seems much more interesting.

 

“Well, I can't do anything about it,” Daniel says as matter-of-factly, shrugging.

 

It's a Friday morning at the academy, the cool breeze grazing upon the stress-induced students seated at the outdoor cafeteria. Soups of all tastes and concoctions are poured into the bowls of hungry scholars who can't wait to fill their food-deprived stomachs. Under a particular table by the shade of a tree sit Kang Daniel and Park Jihoon.

 

Jihoon playfully slaps Daniel on the arm. “Don't be such a sourpuss!,” he huffs. “I don't want you bailing on me again.” He crosses his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. Sadly, all Daniel sees is an adorable fluff ball.

 

Daniel places his his hand on his chest, as if performing a duty. “I wouldn't miss it for the world.” He wouldn't miss him for anything.”

 

Jihoon hums as he stirs his own share of chicken soup 'for his poor, poor soul', the silver-colored utensil clanking at the bowl's curvatures. Although he has bared his entire being to Daniel, he can't seem to shake off the feeling that he'll be left alone again. “... Promise?” he whispers, his hand shaking.

 

Daniel notices Jihoon's trembling hand, so he reaches out to it and covers it in his own, enveloping it from his insecurities.“I promise you.” He truly will.

 

Jihoon chuckles out of embarrassment, unused to the display of affection from the other. His cheeks flush with a rosy tint, his eyes blinking at Daniel's own. Before he could comment on how domestic they look to the other students, his phone vibrates in his jean pocket- a new message. Sighing, he reluctantly retracts his hand from Daniel's hold and reaches for his phone, figuring out who dare disturb them.

 

“Is something going on?” Daniel asks, sipping from his bowl his crab and corn soup. He exhales a hearty breath, the warmth filling up his body.

 

“I need to go,” Jihoon mutters sadly as he fixes his tray, places his phone in his bag, and stands up from their table- “there's a meeting with the prod team. It's really important.”

 

“Oh don't worry about it, I understand.” He's probably hung out with Jihoon for at least an hour a every day. It wouldn't kill him to stay apart from each other at all. They have their own dreams they have to fulfill.

 

Rather than a wave of a hand, Daniel feels a pair of lips upon his nose.

 

A quick peck from Jihoon.

 

The younger retracts quickly, gripping his tray tighter than needed. “See you, Daniel.” And with that, he leaves, head hung low, probably regretting doing it in public.

 

Daniel stays in place, stunned, and touches the tip of his nose. Did that really just happen?

 

“You seem to have patched things up, huh?”

 

Ah, of course, it's him. Great timing.

 

Daniel tilts his head up to find Seongwoo peering down at him, smiling. The said man retreats as he saunters in front of Daniel, a hot cup of coffee in his hands, as he sits himself comfortably across him.

 

“Actually, I might even thank you for it, to be honest,” Daniel admits, blowing onto his soup before sipping it again. Truly one's comfort food.

 

Seongwoo raises his eyebrows in confusion, removing his coffee cup's lid, the drink's haze emanating. “Really now?”

 

“I mean, if it wasn't for your cocky attitude, I wouldn't grow the balls to actually step up my game for once.” Who knew Daniel, the black sheep of the arts department, would dare talk in such a vulgar manner to Seongwoo, resident god of the theatre actors?

 

But hey, they're not different at all.

 

They're just the youth who're trying to find their place in this harsh world.

 

“Thanks, I guess?” Seongwoo blows onto his coffee, annoyed that it couldn't warm up any faster despite the weather nearing zero degrees.

 

“I wanted to ask you something, though,” Daniel inquires, wiping his mouth rid of soup remnants with the back of his hand. He'd better wash it up later. “Do you and Jihoon have... anything?”

 

Daniel doesn't expect the hearty laugh from Seongwoo.

 

“Oh my god, really? You were worried about me all this time?” Seongwoo jests, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “There's nothing. Nothing at all.” Deemed to be acceptable to consume, he brings the rim of the drink close to his lips and takes a sip. Bad move on his part- his tongue gets scalded. He places the drink back down. He should probably wait for a few more minutes before attempting such tomfoolery again.

 

Daniel seems to be in the mood to annoy someone today. “It's probably me, then?” Daniel starts off, voice going deeper. “You've been talking to me a lot these past few weeks. Perhaps you're the one who wants to be with me instead?”

 

“And what if that's what I've been doing all along, Daniel?” Seongwoo provokes, his forearms resting on the table as he stares at Daniel's surprised orbs. “That you were my intention from the very beginning, and Jihoon was the only person bridging us together?”

 

Shock wouldn't even _begin_ to describe how Daniel's feeling right now. Confused, appalled, unamused- any adjective would be deemed incoherent for the young man. “Cut the crap, Ong.”

 

Another hearty laugh. “Shit, you're really easy to fool.”

 

Daniel may just punch someone in the jugular today.

 

“So, did you like it? My improv?” Seongwoo asks, playing the the coffee lid, spinning it from time to time. “Some people say it's too much, but I think it's just fine.”

Daniel sides with the people. “You know, I think I understand why a lot of people are so interested in you.”

 

Seongwoo is a code you can't crack. He may seem like a prankster (and a professional, at that), but behind those eyes lay thousands of secrets waiting to be revealed.

 

The said man hums, sighing as he gazes upon his slowly-cooling coffee. “I wish I understood, too.”

 

Daniel feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He grabs it to see the familiar strings of numbers, the contact name _'_ my man mandu' flashing on the screen. He swipes the green symbol, answering the call. “Hello?”

 

On the other side of the line is a frantic Jaehwan screaming into his ears, Daniel's phone speakers exploding from the volume of his friend's voice. “Where the fuck are you!? Kim-ssaem is going to beat your ass if you don't come here right now!”

 

Perplexed, Daniel looks again at his phone to check the time.

 

9:21 a.m.

 

He's twenty minutes late to his first class.

 

Cursing himself mentally.

 

Why did he take music theory as an elective, for Pete's sake? (For Jaehwan's sake, duh.)

 

“Sorry, I didn't notice the time- yes, I'm an idiot, I know-” Daniel struggles to balance his phone between his cheek and his shoulders as he stands up, struggling to swing his backpack on as he fixes his tray. “Tell Daehwi that I'm still coming to class- and _no_ , I'm not playing hooky-”

 

“Want me to fix that for you?” Seongwoo asks, motioning to the pile of trash on Daniel's tray.

 

Daniel thanks the gods (and Seongwoo) for the extra help. He leaves the tray back on the table, motioning a 'thank you' to Seongwoo (which mostly consists of him putting his hands together and bowing to him constantly) as he runs towards the nearest school entrance.

 

“Don't forget your tickets for later!” Seongwoo shouts, standing up from the table.

 

Without turning around, Daniel gives a thumbs up.

 

Seongwoo sighs as he slumps back down onto his chair, alone again, naturally. Reaching for his coffee cup, he brings it to his lips, finally thankful that it's consumable at the least, the cold serving it's purpose.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The second bell rings.

 

Five minutes left before three months full of work comes into fruition.

 

The lights slightly dim, house music distinctively becoming softer.

 

Daniel's feels more nervous than the whole production team themselves, his leg bouncing up and down, unnerving. Beside him is his Jaehwan humming to one of the latest artists hie's stumbled upon. He seems to be having a splendid time.

 

“Gosh, I hope this is good. We've paid good coin for this,” Jaehwan mumbles to Daniel as he slumps into the cushioned maroon seats of the theatre, nudging himself into a comfortable position. “We had to skip our usual ramen dates, ya know.”

 

“Well, they'd get their asses whooped if they don't do a good job,” Daniel jests. If you dare slack off and be useless in a field where it's mandatory to do your ultimate best, then maybe you should reconsider your course. Sleepless nights aren't for nothing.

 

The person beside Jaehwan shushes them before leaning back into their seat. Jaehwan just rolls his eyes as Daniel apologizes to them. They've been chatting too, why make the keep quiet? Such hypocrisy.

 

Before more comments could come out of Jaehwan's mouth, the theatre is engulfed in absolute darkness- save for the lights directed to the stage.

 

A musical score is played, signalling its start.

 

 

_Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye_

  
_Cheerio, here I go on my way_

  
_Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye_

  
_Not a tear but a cheer, make it gay_

 

  
  
A swelling feeling makes itself be felt in Daniel's chest.

 

  
  
_Give me a smile_

  
_I can keep for a while_

  
_In my heart while I'm away_

  
_Till we meet once again, you and I_

  
_Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye_

 

  
  
He doesn't understand it, refusing to feel its presence. He crosses his arms as he taps his fingers on his forearms, distracting himself, eyes glued to the flurry of actors coming onto stave, revealing themselves.

  
  
Theyre dressed in prim and proper suits, black and neatly-pressed, suited to their body type perfectly. Their synchronized movements, adequate voice projection, and overall aura on stage captivate its audience. Yet there is one boy who Daniel can't seem to break his gaze from.

  
“Stop jittering, Daniel.” Jaehwan whispers, smacking the blonde's bicep in hopes to cease his movements.

  
Daniel mumbles a 'sorry', but he doesn't think he'll keep his composure anytime soon. 

 

It's a story of striving for your best- yet it isn't enough.

 

You may have worked endless hours for something to be deemed grand, yet it will get lost in the scattered works of others.

 

People will become disinterested with your work, believing that it's not worth their precious time.

 

There may be nothing wrong with what you've done, but it's not interesting, either.

 

So what's the point?

 

The stage's set continues off in a classroom setting, something which most of the theatre's population are quite acquainted with. The yellow lights projected on the stage create a sensual haze, the atmosphere increasing in temperature.

 

Propped on the professor's desk is Seongwoo, hair slicked back, his costume reminiscent of a paper boy; white collared top, checkered trousers, and noir suspenders suited to the man placed on stage left.

 

On stage right sits Jihoon in the same attire, though dolled-up in a different color palette. A dull mustard pair of pants and a dusty shirt are all he wears, yet it seems like its all he needs to stand out. He crosses his legs on the wooden table, calm and collected.

 

Daniel is all too familiar with this scene.

 

“Cheer up, at least he talks to you,” Seongwoo comments as he leans back on the wooden desk, his arms holding him for support. He gives one of his to-die-for smiles, and Daniel swears he hears someone swoon from the crowd. “Most guys wouldn't even speak to you.”

 

Daniel must agree, the man _does_ know how to act.

 

Jihoon, in character, just shrugs at the statement, exhaling loudly at nothing in particular. “Y'know, love can be very irritating.” His eyes then dart to the crowd, scanning the array of faces in search for a certain one which would make his heart skips a beat.

 

He stops at pair staring directly at him, a single mole under his right eye. _Got him_ .

 

“Oh?” Seongwoo questions, his eyebrow raising in curiosity. “How do you know?” He then props himself off the table, puts his hands in his pockets, and saunters to where Jihoon sits. He stops right in front of the man and tilts his head, hoping to gain his attention.

 

Daniel knows it's all part of the script.

 

It's just a play.

 

Yet it feels like it's all directed to him.

 

He bites his lower lip, gaze steady onto the second male lead, tapping his fingers on his seat's armrest.

 

“Daniel, I swear to god-” Jaehwan whisper-shouts once again into his best friend's ears, wondering why the said man is uneasy. He closes his eyes and prays to Buddah, asking him to give him strength in enduring his rising blood pressure.

 

Jihoon just smiles, breaking eye contact with the blonde as he directs it to Seongwoo's own, albeit a little too cocky. “That's what I always think about God. He must get so pissed off, everyone adoring him all the time.”

 

The scene ends with the two gazing into each other's eyes, tension rising between them.

 

The hairs on Daniel's arms rise as the lights dim themselves before proceeding to the next set.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Five minutes.

 

Just five minutes before he can get out of there, before suffocating.

 

Daniel's hands are itching to paint again, missing the material's scent intoxicating every fiber in his body. He misses the familiar feeling of hues forming right before his eyes, knowing that it's his own doing which brings it to life.

 

He needs to let everything out- before it gets too much.

 

The stomping of feet resonate loudly in the four walls of the theatre, movements synchronized, no one off beat.

 

_I've done pretty well, I think._

 

His breath hitches in his throat, his own foot jittering on the carpeted floor.

 

_But this half-pint imitation put me on the blink._

 

He darts his eyes left and right, unfocused.

 

_I've sinned a lot._

 

_I mean, a lot._

 

It's becoming too close to home. Who thought it was a good idea to choose this play to show to the student body? As a reality check? Daniel appreciates the effort, but it just won't work on him.

 

 _I'll sing to him, each spring to him, and worship the trousers that cling to him_.

 

Like prey, he lays his eyes to a body he's seen vulnerable, a body he's memorized oh so well, the owner breathing heavily from the choreography.

 

 _Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered_.

 

One more line.

 

Just one more line.

 

Synchronized stomps of feet, and everything goes quiet. The audience lean in their seats, curious as to what will happen next. Is this the end? Is there more?

 

Then there rings a single voice.

 

“I'm wild again, beguiled again,” Jihoon shouts as he steps onto the middle of the stage, presence known. He clutches his fists as he continues his monologue. “A simpering, whimpering child again.” The spotlight hits him, the shadow's contrasts emphasizing his existence.

 

That's where he belongs.

  
  
The stage is his home, and Daniel seeks for it.

  
  
“Bewitched, bothered and bewildered,” he mutters, emphasizing each word with every step he takes until his movements stop stage left, right in front of Daniel's general direction. “Bewitched, bothered and bewildered,” he repeats, his voice echoing, eyes piercing into Daniel's. “... Am I?”

  
  
Daniel doesn't want to assume anything, but he feels as if these words were directed right to him.

  
A question he doesn't have a solid answer to.

  
  
And with the last line uttered, all fades to black, bringing an end to the play.

  
  
A loud round of applause erupts from the audience, enamored with the production.

  
  
Jaehwan claps his hands as well, nodding his head, actually appreciating the worth of the price he paid. At the corner of his eye he sees his senior Jisung a few rows front, clapping his hands in a circular motion. Jaehwan thinks the gesture's weird, but he expected it from the older, anyways.

  
Daniel exhibits his fair share of the applause. He better hand it to them- producing such a large play isn't so easy- especially with the standards set upon them. He feels a lingering scratch on his nape yet he waves it off. It could be dealt with later.

  
The actors line themselves up on the stage and bow altogether, hand in hand.

  
  
Jihoon goes back up, the afterglow of the play emanating from his body. He's euphoric, even- he's at home. He's in love. He knows where he longs to be.

  
  
At that moment, Daniel realized he and Jihoon live in completely opposite worlds.

  
  
Daniel, the dreamer who is always searching for what could be more, and Jihoon, the realist who keeps his feet on the ground, content and ever-so perceiving.

  
  
But Daniel needs Jihoon to keep him from flying too close to the sun.

  
  
And without Daniel, Jihoon wouldn't have ever got off the ground.

  
  
Two opposite worlds, yet they can't live without each other.

  
  
How does it feel like to finally be in a place where you belong? What is the feeling of being appreciated for your actions, never being reprimanded by doing what you love? How do you cope with other people's criticisms, yet get to exhibit your passion ten-fold despite such commentary?

  
  
Daniel thinks it's unfair.

  
  
He's infatuated with someone perfectly imperfect.

 

  
And him? He's just flawed.

  
  
Daniel doesn't notice he has zoned out if it wasn't for the consistent nudging of Jaehwan by his now-sore bicep.

  
  
“Earth to Daniel, hello-” Jaehwan continues to nudge his fucked-out best friend who still seems to have their eyes glued to the now empty stage. “Everyone's already left, aren't we going to leave?”

  
  
Daniel blinks out of his daze, glancing across the theatre- they're the only ones left, save for a few who're still chatting by the sidelines.

  
  
“Are you okay? You seem a little... pale.” Jaehwan comments, eyeing Daniel's sudden break of sweat forming on his skin.

  
  
Daniel tries to laugh his situation off. “Ah, I just forgot to eat dinner, ha ha. No worries.”

  
  
Jaehwan doesn't believe it one bit, but knowing Daniel, he'd probably keep up the act for a hot minute, so he leaves the taller to his own doubts. “Whatever, let's fill up that stomach of yours, then.”

  
  
Daniel fears the wrath building up in his significantly shorter friend, so he follows the man with no further ado, giving one last glance at the stage before exiting the theatre.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
  
  
“-and that's a wrap! Thank you and good job, everyone!”

  
  
From the grateful words of their director, the production team's cheers resonate the entirety of the backstage, inhabitants high on euphoria. They disperse into their appointed groups, each fulfilling their own tasks at the final hour before their much-awaited event-

  
  
-the after party.

  
  
An occasion where students get to release their pent-up frustrations for the entirety of the night, most of them forgetting what happens the next day. Much to be talked about, less to be worried for.

  
  
For Jihoon? He doesn't fancy it as much as they deem it to be. He would usually just do his part then go home, not wanting to involve himself too personally with the team. He's always been brought up to be professional in whatever he does, including relationships.

  
  
He wipes his forehead rid of sweat after pushing the final set piece to the back of the storage room. He glances around the grey-painted enclosure, eyeing each prop and set piece they worked so hard to create, only for it to be left in the dust. Don't get them wrong, they could use it for other productions, but it's a shame that most of them won't be as of big of a use the next time around.

  
  
He pats the dust off his trousers, turning to leave the storage room.

  
  
Only to be blocked by Seongwoo.

  
  
“Jihoon,” Seongwoo gasps out, breath laced with a tinge of alcohol. “Aren't you going to join us this time? You always leave right after.”

  
  
Seongwoo is still dressed up in his paper boy outfit, although haggard. His polo is untucked from his trousers, a hand tucked into one of its pockets, and hair back to its usual disheveled mop.

  
  
Jihoon smiles at the taller man. “Sorry, maybe next time. Besides, I don't drink.” He bows to Seongwoo out of politeness and passes by him and out of the room.

  
Seongwoo grabs Jihoon by the arm, preventing him from leaving. The latter glances at his darkened eyes, gulping.

  
“But you drank with some guy from the arts department, yeah?” Seongwoo starts off, voice lower than before as he brings Jihoon closer to him, their bodies barely inches apart. “What makes him so different from us? From me?”

  
The younger's back hits the same desk used during the play, yet here it is, being used in real life.

  
  
“The only difference, Seongwoo-hyung,” Jihoon whispers back, his free hand caressing the front of Seongwoo's top in attempt to flatten the wrinkles out. “-is that 'that guy' asks me first rather than forcing me to go.” He looks up to the taller's structured face, the three moles the man's focal points. “And believe me when I say I enjoy every single second with him.”

  
  
“Hmm, that's kind of mean to say, don't you think?” Seongwoo lets go of his hold onto Jihoon's arm, finding it's new place on the younger's slim waist. Those mustard trousers are a blessing in disguise, accentuating the boy's slender curvatures. “We've been through so much together, yet you always choose to leave.”

  
  
Jihoon sighs, grasping Seongwoo's hold on his waist and pushing it to the older's side. “I hope you understand, hyung.” The more he lets himself linger in that situation, the more dangerous it will get.

  
Seongwoo just shrugs his shoulders, chuckling to himself. “Well, it was worth the try, Jihoonie.”

  
  
They both leave the storage room, Jihoon locking its door before walking side-by-side on the deserted hallway. The moonlight shines through the window, illuminating their path.

 

“Ah, wait-” Jihoon mutters, stopping in his tracks.

  
  
Seongwoo turns back at the younger, eyebrow raised.

  
  
“I'm going to pass by somewhere first,” Jihoon says, blinking his eyes at the older. “You go on ahead.”

 

  
Seongwoo just smiles, a knowing look on his face. “We'll be waiting for you if ever you decide to drop by.”

  
  
Jihoon nods.

  
  
With one last glance at each other, they part ways, off to their own worlds.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Jihoon sits down cross-legged in the middle of a certain classroom, him surrounded by numerous paintings with a variety of muses painted on the canvasses.

  
  
The first time he came here, he bared himself to the unknowing eyes of complete strangers who're eager to splatter multicolored hues onto their individual boards. He didn't expect anything to come out of it- he was just there as a model. He needed the exposure, the experience, the limelight. He lowers his expectations. He was asked to pose for hours on by the class' professor, nothing else.

  
  
His eyes rested upon Lai KuanLin, a familiar name. He was asked to be his muse on numerous occasions, yet even with the man's reputation, he declines as much as he was requested for. It's weird to see the man so into his own agenda, into his own passion- is this how it would have looked like if he accepted in the first place. He does not want to know, so he settles his gaze for the man beside him.

  
  
He seemed a little out of place, in Jihoon's opinion. He looked like an abandoned puppy in the middle of hungry prey.

  
  
Jihoon remembers the kittens.

  
  
He went back to feed them, yet there were nowhere to be found the day after. Whatever happened to them, he wished they were in a better place. He blinks the thoughts away and focuses on his subject.

  
  
Yet the moment his eyes laid onto a blonde man's own, he knew he was in for more than he bargained for.

  
He looked out of place, yet he looked the most passionate of all. It sent shivers down Jihoon's spine, the eye contact getting too much.

 

But wait- he's a professional.

  
  
An actor.

  
  
No feelings involved.

  
  
The bell rings and he sighs in relief, thankful that he'll get to relax his body sore from staying in the same position for so long.

  
As the rest of the students leave the room, he meekly walks to his abandoned backpack at the end of the room, ever-so-slowly dressing himself up.

  
He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around to see the perpetrator.

  
It was him.

  
His heart skipped a beat seeing the man in such close proximity.

  
Jihoon notices his paint-stained arms moving closer to his neck, so he grabs it and places it by the taller male's sides.

  
  
He was asked to be his model again that day.

  
  
Jihoon pondered on the offer. He wouldn't lose anything, right? He should give it a try, even just once.

  
  
He agrees to converse with the man- and the rest was history.

  
  
“Fancy you seeing here.”

 

 

 

 

Ah, it's him.

 

 

 

  
  
Jihoon turns his head to the very man who occupied his thoughts, the said boy approaching him step by step.

 

Daniel does not expect to see Jihoon by himself in his classroom- especially after such a tiring production. “Mind to tell me what you're doing here?”

  
  
Jihoon shakes his head, gazing at one particular canvas. “I wanted to know how your painting went,” he answers, looking back up at Daniel. “It looks beautiful.”

 

Daniel follows Jihoon's previous line of sight, and there it is, his own masterpiece. His promise.

  
Propped up on an easel is a painting of Daniel's mother he spent blood, sweat and tears on. The same azure and hazel illustration stays upright in its position, dried up and ready to be submitted.

  
  
“You know, I think it looks great. It would have been a disaster if it was me,” Jihoon comments, standing up and stretching his legs. “You got to paint someone you love, yeah?”

  
  
Daniel just hums in response. He then turns to look back at the younger only to have their faces only inches apart, breath grazing their skin. His darts his eyes to Jihoon's own, enthralled by how even though they're surrounded by darkness, his eyes still seem to hold a shimmer of light. “I'd still paint you even if you didn't ask me to.” Because hell, why wouldn't he?

  
  
Jihoon's gaze rests on Daniel's lips which are dangerously close to his. All he needs is a light push. His thoughts get cut off by the blonde's voice.

  
  
“You still haven't given me an exact answer, though,” Daniel confesses, his hands caressing Jihoon's nape as he leans closer to the younger's ears. “The Park Jihoon in front of me,” he continues, his hand travelling through Jihoon's jaw and resting on his chin, tilting it up. “-who is he, really?”

  
  
Jihoon chuckles lightly as he grasps Daniel's shirt, wrinkles be damned. “My answer remains the same,” he taunts, licking his lips. Without another second passing, he presses them to Daniel's own, moaning into the contact. He feels Daniel's hands resting on his waist, pulling him any more closer than they already are. He feels the taller's tongue prodding his lips but he backs out before he could go deeper. He gazes into Daniel's eyes, seeing the same passion etched into them. Whispering, he slides his hands up his arms. “I'm whoever you want to be, Daniel.”

  
  
Daniel chuckles at the younger's answer. He can't believe that he, resident black sheep would be lucky enough to embrace such an ethereal being who saved him from the brink of insanity.

  
  
Maybe it's time to be get out of their comfort zones and be themselves, for once.

  
  
“Will you let me be whoever I want to be, too?” Daniel asks the younger, seriousness evident in his voice.

  
  
“Hmm, why do you ask?” Jihoon wonders aloud, curious to the sudden change of mood. His hands travel down to Daniel's belt, resting his fingers at the seams.

  
  
“Just in case you'll still accept me even if I do something stupid.”

 

“Isn't what we're doing stupid already?” Jihoon jokes, feeling Daniel's hands roaming down his back.

  
  
Daniel kisses Jihoon the second time that night. He retreats too quickly, Jihoon's lips following Daniel's own. His eyes turn up into crescents, his hands resting on the small of Jihoon's back. “No, I think this is perfect.”

  
Daniel thinks that he can do what he loves.

  
  
With Jihoon by his side, he seemed less afraid of the repercussions he'll face for his actions.

  
  
There's no turning back.

  
  
He leans in again and captures the younger's lips, Jihoon melting into his embrace.

  
  
They're the youth who found a place in each other in the world.

 

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
  
Daniel is alone.

  
  
Jihoon left the blonde to attend their production's after party. 'A change of scenery', the younger said when his hands grasped his hair.

  
  
Daniel understands, of course.

  
Even though they have each other, the world is still full of people. Endless relationships to be made.

  
  
He clutches his jacket tighter to his body, the cold breeze once again grazing his body. He could really never get used to the cold.

  
  
His feet follow a familiar path, stopping when they reach it's destination.

  
  
The school did a pretty good job in covering his mistakes.

  
  
It's cleaner, wider than how Daniel remembered.

  
  
Daniel sets down his backpack on the concrete pavement, the familiar _clank_ of aluminum rustling in its enclosure. He zips it open and pulls out a single can of spray paint, the can fitting perfectly into his palm.

  
  
_Shake._

 

_Shake._

  
  
_Spray._

  
  
_Shake._

 

_Shake._

  
  
_Spray again_.

  
  
Oh, how Daniel missed this.

  
  
The smell of the spray paint intoxicating his entire being, the high of the chance of being caught by whoever passes by him, the exposure of his creation public to the naked eye- it's what Daniel lives for.

  
  
Satisfied, he lets the can roll down from his palm and onto the sidewalk, clanking onto the wall wet and dripping with the color of bubblegum, of cotton candy, of innocence long gone.

  
  
Daniel almost forgets something important, so he dives down to retrieve the fallen can, shaking to once, twice, thrice.

  
  
Four lines, a curve, and two dots.

 

 

  
  
“K.D.”

 

 

  
  
Smiling, he props the can back down, pitied by it's constant falling onto the ground, dents evident on its surface. He grabs his backpack and slings it onto his shoulders, zipped and secure. He looks up the tainted wall to see a familiar friend, it's red light blinking in greetings. He grins, salutes to the camera, and turns his back.

 

Daniel walks away, content and unworried.

  
  
He guesses it's something his future self has to face.

 

The sidewalk becomes silent once again, the moon the sole spectator of the boy's activity.

 

The once-pristine wall is marked with a lone student's pent-up frustrations, worries, and insecurities.

 

In stark hues, the sentence inhabits it's home once again.

 

 

 

 

_Vita patitur._

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> it's 4a.m. as i'm posting this, what is sleep
> 
> wahh that was quite a handful to write hfdjfghd thank you so much for reading until the end!
> 
> i'm planning to make this into a series/collection of works, using each band and a song as some sort of inspiration. i've been working with some p!atd themes for a while, so maybe that's what's next for this!
> 
> we all deserve our own happy kind of happy ending. for wanna one, its the start of he new beginning. the bond that they have made will never be broken, as the same for us wannables with each other.
> 
> i hope that this fic will suffice as i continue to work on Go for Gold. i'll never let myself hear the end of it until i finish it! until next time! :) a happy 2019 for us all.


End file.
